


Full Body Workout

by ItsKarla



Category: Emmerdale, robron
Genre: Aaron Dingle is a nice thing, Alternate Universe, Erotic Massage, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Family Issues, Feelings Realization, First Meetings, Humor, M/M, Miscommunication, Phone Sex, Pining, Pining Robert, Porn with Feelings, Robert Sugden deserves nice things, Robert Sugden is a successful businessman, Sexual Tension, The Sugden‘s suck, robert needs a hug, sweaty Aaron, sweaty Robert, these idiots need to talk!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:53:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 53,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25816855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsKarla/pseuds/ItsKarla
Summary: “You need a personal trainer,“ Vic states and crosses her arms, like the decision is already made.“No way!“Robert knows personal trainer‘s, there are basically two types of them.Type 1: the Ecstatic. They wear neon sports gear and are always smiling, because "being sporty is so much fun and how can you not feel how much super fun this is!"Type 2: the Steroid. They have to walk sideways through ordinary doors, because "sorry, I just finished 40 repetitions of lifting the 200-pound-barbell, now I am slightly warmed up so let‘s start."Robert doesn‘t need a personal trainer. He can do it without, thanks. It‘s not that hard - putting running shoes on and go ...like, running.It‘s idiot proof.———Robert Sugden really DOES need a personal trainer. Entering Aaron Dingle.
Relationships: Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden
Comments: 253
Kudos: 402





	1. ready, steady, go

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this 'meanwhile' on my twitter a while ago:
> 
> Meanwhile...
> 
> No sports is Robert‘s motto. Then Vic signs him up for a personal trainer. His name is Aaron.  
> "I‘ll make you sweat,“ he says.  
> "I bet you will,“ Rob grins.
> 
> 3 years later Robert still doesn‘t workout.  
> Aaron keeps his promise every day though.  
> #robron #emmerdale
> 
> And I was asked to make it into a full fic.  
> So here we go 😊  
> Sweaty robron and all that!

“Yes, Mr Moors, absolutely… No, the pleasure is all mine… Definitely…. You won‘t regret this, Mr Moors! We’ll speak soon, yeah?... Of course… And greetings to your lovely wife! Bye, Mr Moors… yeah, you too.“

_Urgh, prick._

He ends the call and rubs his face. That was a client he’d been after for weeks now and finally the deal was done, but instead of having an endorphin rush because of his success, he just has the urge to take a shower in the middle of the day, because he crawled _that_ deep in said pricks arse.

He scrolls through his mails and skims the subjects. A notification from his calendar pops up with a ping and he is about to grab his phone, when Vic rushes into his office without knocking. As usual. A habit that will never not be annoying. She opens her mouth, but he raises his left pointer to shush her. 

“Nicola,“ he says to his PA on the other end of the line, “it‘s Mr Labay‘s 50th birthday in three days. Pick a nice bottle of red, nothing cheap and definitely a semi-sweet one, he hates dry ones.”

There is a pause where she writes it down and Robert drums his fingers on his glass table. Vic puts the tupperware with his lunch on the sideboard, crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. Well, he hates her waltzing into his office and she hates waiting - they‘re even.

“Alright, Robert. Does he had a wife? Girlfriend? Mistress or boyfriend?” Nicola asks on the phone. “For the card,“ she clarifies.

_Clever girl. Must have learned from the best._

Robert chuckles. “He‘s shagging a 20 year old bloke called Noel, but that‘s a dirty little secret of course, so he‘s single officially. Just go for the usual yadda yadda, I‘ll sign the card tonight before I leave.”

He hangs up without a further word and looks up to Vic, who is still pouting.

“Hi Vic.“

“Hi Vic, thanks for bringing me my lunch, like everyday, you are the best sis ever,“ she says sarcastically.

“Hi Vic, thanks for bringing me my lunch, like everyday, you are the best sis ever,“ Robert parrots.

He is actually really grateful that his sister cooks for a living and saves him from greasy take away food. Vic just stands there, not making a move to leave again. 

“Anything else I can do for you, sister dearest?” he asks, slightly irritated. 

Robert loves his lunch break, the 30 minutes are religious to him, all his employees know that. 30 minutes without stupid calls, dumbass questions or Nicola annoying him with something. When Vic bites the insides of her cheek, he knows already that he won‘t like what she‘s going to say. He just _knows_ it.

“Dad called-”

_Here we go._

He rolls his eyes and slouches back on the chair.

“Not interested,“ he interrupts her shortly.

“Robert!“ she flails about. “Can‘t you be serious for _once_?“

He huffs. “I _am_ serious.“

She pinches the bridge of her nose and breathes loudly. 

“When you‘re finished with Zen-ing out, you‘re welcome to leave,“ he informs her and goes back to reading his mails.

“Robert Jacob Sugden!“ she fumes.

“Victoria Ursula Sugden!“ he shouts back.

She‘s taken aback and is actually speechless for a good 5 seconds. This might be his personal best, Robert reckons.

“That‘s not- My middle name is ‘Anne’, you know that,“ she points at him. “And did you… did you name me after the villain in The Little Mermaid?“

“Maaaybeee,“ he says slowly and smirks.

_Yeah, that was a good one, Rob!_

Genius almost.

Vic makes a growl in her throat, turns on her heels and rushes out. For a split second he wonders if he was too mean to her, but then again… nah. Vic will come back anyway for whatever she wanted from him.

— — —

His father‘s birthday.

It was his father‘s birthday and the dinner invitation his sister wanted to talk about a few days ago. 

Of course Robert forgot it. 

Vic laughed her arse off at him. Because he has every birthday from his clients _and_ from his employees saved in his computer - just not the one of his old man.

And he forgets it. Every. Fucking. Year.

Great, fucking great. Robert sits in his car, outside his father‘s house, mentally preparing for the annual horror show. 

_Urgh._

He gets out eventually, knowing what is about to come, hoping that it‘ll be over soon. When he enters his childhood home with his key he forces himself not to wrinkle his nose when the typical musty smell of _old_ hits him. The place smells old and that‘s because it is. It looks frozen in time with the grotesque wallpapers and dark furniture. The sofa in the living room is as old as Robert. After Sarah‘s death, Jack Sugden wasn‘t arsed in renovating. 

The scenery is utterly cosy. His father, Vic and Andy are standing in the kitchen and having a laugh about something. Jack is patting Andy‘s shoulder and Vic beams at both of them.

When he comes in, their heads turn in his direction and the laughter slowly fades. There is this super awkward moment, a second that feels like _hours_ really, where Robert doesn‘t know what to do. So he strides over to his father and offers his hand for a shake.

“Happy birthday,“ he says.

His hand hangs in the air and all eyes flick down on it. 

_Now shake it, for fucks sake._

Jack Sugden slowly reaches out to him, grabs his hand and squeezes. Squeezes hard, like damn fucking I’ve-been-a-farmer-all-my-life-hard. But Robert keeps his face even, squeezes back just as hard. He sees a flicker in his father‘s eyes.

_As if he is surprised that I don‘t give in and pull back._

Then Jack loosens his grip and Robert weirdly feels like a winner of a secret contest. He wishes he could high five somebody.

“Son,“ Jack nods and that‘s probably the most enthusiastic greeting he got in years. 

“Dad,“ he answers. 

It‘s awkward as hell and Robert wants to leave already. The air feels so thick, you could cut through it. He raises the bottle of red wine and offers it to his father.

“Here, this is for you.”

Andy coughs and turns half away and Vic makes big eyes. Robert feels self-conscious suddenly, as if he did something wrong, he feels like a little boy again, insecure and vulnerable. 

His father says: “I quit alcohol. 4 months ago.”

_Oh_.

Robert swallows and puts the 80-pound-bottle stiffly on the kitchen counter.

“Well, I didn’t know that, you could have told me,” he says and hates how pouty he sounds.

But he can’t help it. Obviously his siblings knew,going by their reactions. Of course, he was left out, nothing new there.

“Guess, you were too busy with your work,” Jack says and his voice changes with the word _“work_ ”. It dips a bit lower and although his face stays indifferent, it _feels_ like he is grimacing with disgust.

It’s always harping on the same old theme. 

“Robert won some important new clients over the past few weeks,” Vic chimes in and _bless her_ , really!

As much as she annoys him, she is the only one who is genuinely interested in what Robert does. And the only one who occasionally takes his side. He resists the urge to hug her.

“Yeah?” Andy speaks up, “how much did you cheat out of them?”

Robert knows these kinds of remarks, he gets them everytime and he won’t jump on it. He actually managed to double that client's investment already, but he’s not gonna tell Andy and his father, they wouldn’t understand it anyway.They are simple people - milking cows and repairing tractors, that’s what they do. They have no clue about stock prices, investments and all that.

There is heavy silence in the kitchen, only the old clock on the wall is ticking loudly, when suddenly the door opens and seconds later a voice sing songs through the house: “Hellooo!”

Katie rushes into the kitchen, leaving a trail of sweet vanilla perfume behind her, hugs his father and Vic, kisses Andy. It’s like it is her home more than Robert’s and god, he hates it. 

“Robert,” she says to greet him.

He really doesn’t know why he was in love with her once. Yeah, she looks amazing, but behind the pretty face? There isn‘t much.

“Katie.”

The only good thing about Katie showing up, is that they can eat now. And the sooner they eat, the sooner Robert can leave again. 

They sit around the large table and Vic and Katie are serving the food. It’s Haggis, Neeps and Tatties, like every year, because it’s his father’s favourite. Robert hates it. He prefers much more international cuisine, Asian, Indian, Italian, instead of the traditional, heavy food he was forced to eat during his childhood.

“Ah, dad, the food looks amazing!” Andy smiles and pats Jack's shoulder, “So that’s my cheat day!”

“Cheat day?” Robert frowns. “Thought that’s her discipline!”

He points with his knife towards Katie, it’s like a reflex, the words are out of his mouth before he could even think about them. He really has no brain-to-mouth-filter when it comes to Katie. 

“Robert!” Vic hisses and glares at him.

Katie just shakes her head in disbelief. “You are unbelievable.”

A tiny bit of Robert feels actually guilty for rubbing salt in the wound. She cheated on his brother twice already with some random blokes she met in clubs, but still, Andy took her back everytime and Jack treats her like a second daughter. 

Robert is his own flesh and blood and barely gets a clap on the shoulder. So there, his words are the truth after all, whether they like it or not.

“Your brother is training for a marathon,” Jack says calmly to him, then he turns to Andy and his face lights up with a genuine smile.

_Only once. Only once, I wish he’d look at me like that._

“It’s for a good cause too, they’re raising money for cancer patients,” his father adds, audibly proud.

“Yeah, when is this marathon?” Robert asks, just to be polite. He is not a total arsehole, okay? At least he is interested in other people’s stuff.

Andy gives him a surprised look. “In 12 weeks. Why?” His face turns into a challenging grin. “Do you wanna join in?” All eyes around the table are on Robert now.

They think he is gonna chicken out, he sees it in their faces. But well, they should know him better. Robert Jacob Sugden doesn’t back down when he faces a challenge. He faces it and succeeds. 

“You know what, Andy? Yeah! I’m in,” he hears himself saying, “I’m gonna run that marathon.”

The look his father has given Andy earlier has _nothing_ to do with his decision. Absolutely nothing.

__ __ __

“Are you out of your freaking mind?” Vic shrieks on the next day.

Robert tries to focus on his computer monitor, but it’s a tough task with a furious sister shouting in his face and a nasty hangover. 

So maybe he had a few drinks after that awful birthday meal in his favourite club. Maybe a few drinks too much. He is an adult, he can have as many drinks as he wants. Even if that means that he‘s dying the next day.

“As lovely as your lack of greeting in lieu of insulting me is, excuse me please, I have actual work to do,“ he says through gritted teeth and moves his mouse, just to _emphasize_ how damn busy he is. 

Busy trying to not throw up, that is, but his sister doesn‘t need to know. 

“Andy has been training for that marathon for months now, Robert. Months!” Vic‘s loud, high pitched voice cuts into his temples. “The charity run is in 12 weeks, how do you think you‘ll manage 26 miles of running?“

Robert swallows. Damn, 26 miles… that‘s pretty long, isn‘t it. He clenches his jaw.

_Fuck, I can do it! I’ll start with the training TODAY. If Andy can do this, so can I._

“You need a personal trainer,“ Vic states and crosses her arms, like the decision is already made.

“No way!“

Robert knows personal trainer‘s, there are basically two types of them. 

Type 1: the Ecstatic. They wear neon sports gear and are always smiling, because _being sporty is so much fun and how can you not feel how much super fun this is!_

Type 2: the Steroid. They have to walk sideways through ordinary doors, because _sorry, I just finished 40 repetitions of lifting the 200-pound-barbell, now I am slightly warmed up so let‘s start._

Robert doesn‘t need a personal trainer. He can do it without, thanks. It‘s not that hard - putting running shoes on and go ...like, running. 

It‘s idiot proof. 

— — —

Robert is so fucked. 

Okay, so he always considered himself as ‘okay fit’, he does his occasional sit ups and stuff. He‘s got no Men‘s Health six pack, but he‘d say he is in good shape. But being in shape and having the stamina to run for _hours_ are definitely not the same.

Robert learns it the hard way. Hard way meaning he nearly spits his lungs out after 45 minutes and the next day he isn‘t able to even walk.

He _waddles_ into his office, flops himself on his soft, ergonomic desk chair with a groan, glad that he has only telephone and skype meetings today.

He really does need that personal trainer! He can‘t fail at this marathon, failing is not a bloody option.

Vic brings him his lunch at 1pm on the dot, just as Robert browses grimly through the net.

“Fresh made Spinach-Apple smoothie, grilled chicken with green beans and a banana for dessert!“ she beams at him and places the tupperware on his desk. “Just the right nutrition for a sportsman like you!“

Having a chef as a sister has its perks and he grunts out a thanks, before he looks back on his screen. 

“What are you moping about?“ she gives him raised eyebrows. 

“I‘m not moping,“ he mopes.

It‘s a reflex mostly: always say the opposite of Vic. His sister makes a quick move and leans over the table, impossible for Robert to close his tabs.

“Ha! You‘re looking for a PT!“ she shouts delighted. 

“Gonna give me the I-told-you-so speech now?“ he asks grumpily.

Vic weighs her head from the left to the right and tabs her chin with the pointer as if she is considering it. 

“Nah,“ she says eventually, “just knowing that you know I was right is enough satisfaction for me.“

Robert snorts at that. Generous as ever, his little sister.

“Funny.“

“No, I actually mean it,“ she grins.

_I wonder if we ever leave the stage of acting like 5 year olds… damn, I hope not._

Bantering with his sister is too much fun, sometimes it is the only moment of the day where he really enjoys himself.

_Fuck, that‘s kinda sad._

Robert sighs. Anyway, back to the task at hand. Personal trainer. One that isn‘t the Ecstatic or the Steroid. They‘re rare and hard to find, especially when it is short notice like his request. Robert needs someone _now_ and he doesn‘t care if they’re male or female, there are only two conditions he has: no douche and a skilled expert. 

“You can stop looking for a trainer right now,“ Vic says and hops on his table, dangling her legs back and forth. 

She _hopped_ on his £2,200 designer table and Robert is seconds away from having a fit. Honestly, she costs him years of his life. 

“Oi, that‘s Eileen Gray!” he shrieks and shoves her off. 

Vic looks around, surprised. “Where?“ She cranes her neck to look through the huge glass front into the hallway. “Who’s Eileen? Is she an ex?“

Robert isn‘t religious, but he prays to the Lord above to give him strength anyway. Of course his sister would assume that one of the most famous designers of the 20th century is an old flame. He rubs his face exasperated. 

“I really need to…” he trails off and points to his screen, not in the mood to give a monologue about modern design.

“Yeah! About that,“ Vic rises her pointer, “look no further. I have your solution!“

“No!“ It‘s the reflex again. It‘s instinct. It‘s primal.

“Yes!” she insists - probably out of reflex as well. “My colleague Marlon has a cousin…” Vic stops and frowns, “or is it his nephew? No wait! I think he mentioned once that it‘s his second cousin…” she thinks aloud and Robert groans impatiently, “anyway! So this guy happens to be a PT and Marlon is full of praise for him.”

Robert makes an uninterpretable humming noise. Googling this bloke can‘t be a harm, he decides. 

“What‘s this bloke‘s name?“ 

“Aaron Dingle.“

“Dingle, eh?“ Robert snorts and types it in, “sounds like a right idiot already.“

He quickly skams the results of his research and clicks on the first link. The homepage pops up. Robert is surprised that the page isn‘t called something like happyfitness.uk or morefitlessfat.com but simply: 

_traineraaron.com_

Like...really?! Robert isn‘t sure if that domain is either superclever (because this lad clearly shows that he isn‘t _desperate_ to find new clients online) or just dead stupid. 

He clicks through the page, which has a nice design at least. Black background with white letters, a clean font, not overload. There are black and white photos, close ups of arms and abs and legs, taken during different exercises. Robert wonders if they show the body of the PT and he searches for a pic of Aaron Dingle‘s face, but there is none. 

Shame. That body looks hot. 

“Nice pics, eh?“ Vic elbows him and wiggles her eyebrows. “Or… nice pecs, more like!“

The black and white highlights the muscles, shows off the little bulges. Little beads of sweat are covering the skin. Robert wants to lick them off these strong biceps. 

_Is that… is that a nipple?_

Robert swallows. These pictures are almost pornographic. 

“Yeah. Errm. Very aesthetic,“ he coughs. 

As uncreative the domain of the website is, Robert is surprised with the content. Positively surprised. 

He waits until he is alone again, before he clicks on the mail icon.

_Dear Mr Dingle,_

_I have agreed to take part in a marathon to raise money for the oncology ward of the local hospital. The marathon takes place in only 12 weeks and although I consider myself as quite fit, long distance running isn‘t my specialty._

_I am looking for a personal trainer who can help me in reaching my goal in the upcoming weeks._

_I look forward to your reply, if you see a possibility to schedule me in._

_Best regards_

_Robert J. Sugden_

He wants to keep it short, people who choose PT as a profession aren‘t probably too keen on long essays. Robert leaves his family out of this too. That he wants to do the marathon to kinda impress his father and his brother is none of that guy‘s business. The charity part sounds good though, maybe it pushes Aaron Dingle’s button to fit him in that short-term.

He hits send and all he has to do now is wait.

— — — 

_Hi Robert,_

_Let‘s meet. Tomorrow, 7pm, outside Barton‘s gym? Bring running gear._

_Aaron_

Robert stares at the mail. Blinks.

_Huh._

That Dingle guy is not a man of many words, is he. And well, if that doesn‘t round up the picture Robert has about PT‘s. At least this bloke seems to have enough time to work with him. Three others offered him sessions in two or three weeks, but that‘s too late, Robert needs the training ASAP. 

_It’s only for 12 weeks._

He reminds himself that he has to spend only 12 weeks with Mr BigMuscleNoBrain. They don‘t need to become besties, he just needs to finish the damn 26 miles without vomiting his lungs out.

_Okay._

_See you tomorrow then,_

_RJS_

Robert leans back on his chair and looks at the mail. Then he clicks send. 

It‘s worth a try. What can happen anyway?


	2. abs and downs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert meets Aaron for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo second chapter!!
> 
> I really love Robert in this story 🤣❤️

So this Dingle-dangle is five minutes late and Robert hates when people aren‘t on time. Such a bad habit. It‘s  _ rude. _

He stands around outside of the gym in full running gear and waits for about ten minutes already, kicking little stones with the tips of his shoes. The glances he gets from people passing by are something he could do without, honestly. 

“Are you Robert? I-” Robert hears a raspy, wheezy voice behind him. 

“You‘re late!“ he interrupts shortly and spins around.

He nearly trips over his own feet, when he sees the man for the first time.

The first thing he notices are the blue eyes, they are light blue like a perfect sky in summer and they build an interesting contrast to the dark hair. The mouth is slightly ajar, framed by a well trimmed beard. Aaron doesn‘t wear neon clothes, which is a welcome surprise, he is dressed all black instead. The shirt fits his body like a second skin and the observation of Vic about the ‘nice pecs’ has to be the understatement of the century.

_ Holy fuck. _

But Aaron is not a Mr Steroid either, he‘s got muscles, but not too much, it looks natural. His legs are a bit more on the skinny side even. Robert can tell, because the PT is wearing shorts and offers a good look on his thighs and well-shaped calves. 

Robert wants them wrapped around his hips. 

“And you‘re rude!“ 

The raspy voice snaps him back to reality and his eyes fly back up to Aaron‘s face. The PT is scowling at him, eyebrows drawn together in a deep frown.

“Because you‘re late,“ Robert insists and winces internally, because he’s aware that he sounds like a 6-year-old now. He just can‘t help himself though.

“Like five minutes!” Aaron says through gritted teeth.

And  _ \- whoa _ \- this is not the kinda talking that Robert Sugden is used to from professionals during a business meeting. And that’s what this trial session is - a business meeting.

“Is that how you treat paying clients?“ Robert huffs, bringing his hands to his hips. 

Aaron narrows his eyes at him, mimics Robert‘s posture and growls: “Not paying me yet.“

_ Damn, fair point. _

And if that isn‘t a threat that the PT is thinking about turning him down. That is something Robert really can‘t afford, he needs professional guidance to kick Andy‘s arse and impress his old man. He has to make it to the finish line at all costs. 

Robert Sugden is ambitious after all, that brought him into the position he is in.

The fact that him finishing the marathon depends on this rude, apparently unreliable trainer is just his bad luck, really. 

“Fair enough,“ he sighs finally, letting his shoulders drop. “Alright.“

_ Guess, I have to suck it up. _

Before he realises it, his gaze flicks down to Aaron‘s crotch. The man is fit as hell, Robert has to admit. Rude, but fit. At least training would come along with some eye candy, that‘d make the impending hours of stupid running more bearable. 

Aaron relaxes slightly after Robert lost his challenging attitude, but he stays silent, giving him a long once over, as if he is checking if Robert is worth his precious time, if he is proper material to work with. Robert feels weirdly self-conscious. 

“So what now?“ he asks, suddenly unsure how to proceed after their bumpy start. 

“Now?“ Aaron‘s very blue eyes are coming back to his face and his mouth turns into an upside down smirk. “Now I‘m gonna make you sweat.“

The blue eyes are sparkling at that and in his chest, Robert‘s heart stutters.

— — —

An hour later, Robert  _ is _ sweating. Disgustingly so in fact and he keeps muttering curses about the bloody slave driver that is Aaron Dingle.

  
  


It started  _ okay _ , with a little warm up and a few stretches. Robert felt like a proper idiot doing Jumping Jacks in the parking lot of the gym and getting looked at by others passing by. He would bet money that Aaron did this nonsense just on purpose to make him suffer for being snippy. 

Then he was supposed to stretch the muscles in his legs. Aaron demonstrated the exercise by bending over and grabbing his ankles and it looked so damn easy and-

_ Damn, he‘s flexible and ohmygod look at that arse! _

-when Robert tried it himself, the backsides of his legs were immediately on fire and he only reached his calves. Aaron left his stance and stepped beside him. Then Robert felt a little zing, like a little electric shock, when warm and strong hands touched him. They stroked from his lower back up to his shoulders.

“Keep the back straight,“ Aaron muttered raspily and corrected his pose with a firm grip, “there you go.“

Robert swallowed. Aaron‘s touch burnt downright through the fabric of his shirt. That in combination with the husky, deep, sinful voice was enough to make him half hard  _ just like that.  _

Damn, that mental image of Aaron bending him over, holding him down, fucking him against a table. Or a kitchen counter. Or the back of his couch. Fucking him against  _ anything _ , really - Robert wasn‘t picky.

He couldn’t dwell on these heated thoughts though, because Aaron decided they were warm enough, so they started to run. In the beginning it was a nice jog, Robert might have - maybe - paced a little faster compared to the runs he had done alone. 

Mostly because he really felt good. Definitely not to impress the PT.

Honestly. 

That warm up hadn‘t been bad, apart from how ridiculous it had made him feel, Robert had to admit that his legs felt much better than the days before.

Also running in company was truly an incentive, Aaron’s loud breaths next to him were a welcomed distraction.

_ I wonder what he sounds like in bed? _

Robert’s mind was in the gutter and time passed quicker than he expected. He was surprised to see that they were running for 30 minutes already and his legs still were okay. 

Only minutes later - as if he had bloody jinxed it - he noticed how they got more and more heavy, how his breath shortened, how his body felt way too hot.

When they were 45 minutes underway, Robert started to curse internally about his knee-jerk reaction to take part in a fucking marathon. What the hell had he been thinking? Vic’s voice echoed in his head. His lungs burnt like hell and his thighs and calves were jelly. Very painful jelly. 

  
  


Now, an hour is over and Robert is muttering the expletives aloud. He is beyond caring. 

Stupid marathon, stupid running, stupid Aaron. The PT is still breathing like a clockwork, keeping his pace steady. It looks so easy and fuck, Aaron isn’t even sweating much, how unfair is that? Robert’s shirt is soaked through, his hair sticks on his forehead and he is ready to pass out there and then.

Every thought of impressing the PT - not that he tried to,  _ puh-lease! _ \- is long out of the window by now. Surviving is the only goal on his mind.

When he sees the parking place of the Barton gym again, he knows the torture is over soon and he almost lets out an embarrassing sob. 

Aaron’s “Okay, here we are” makes him stop dead on his tracks and bend over to gasp in some fresh air. He stems his hands on his thighs because the struggle to not simply fall over is real. Robert doesn’t even care that his PT keeps jogging on, he is done with fucking running for today, totally, absolutely done! After a little moment, Aaron comes back to him.

“What the heck are you doing?” he asks irritated.

“You said, we’re finished,” Robert wheezes out. 

“No!” Aaron frowns, “I said, we’re  _ here _ . Big difference. We’re cooling down now. Two slow rounds around the lot and then stretching, c’mon.”

Robert looks up at him. Aaron Dingle is insane. He probably killed his brain cells by sniffing too much sticky gym air.

“Yeah, right. Like no way in hell,” Robert says, still trying not to throw up.

His legs are on fire, his lungs hurt, is he  _ not _ going to run even one bloody step anymore today. 

“Robert, I mean it!” Aaron insists stubbornly, “you’ll get-”

“Cramps!” 

The pain in his calves is sudden and excruciating, it literally knocks Robert off his feet as he slowly sinks down on the ground. He digs his fingers into the flesh of his legs, but the muscles are hard like a stone.

“Cramps!” he pants out through gritted teeth again. 

“On your back,” Aaron orders - and  _ hello _ , that would probably be hot as hell, if it isn’t for-

“Ouch!” Robert winces with a thin voice.

He doesn’t care if he’s pathetic, because it fucking  _ hurts _ , okay? He rolls over obediently, Aaron grabs the stiff legs and lifts them up until they’re leaning against his chest, then he presses the tips of his feet towards Robert’s head. The stretch feels hot, but everything is better than the cramps. Robert squeezes his eyes shut and tries to breathe deeply through the pain.

Slowly, very slowly the ache dulls and then Robert feels Aaron’s moving, his hand not longer pressing down the feet. Instead he feels warm fingers on his left calf, slowly stroking up and down, thumps pressing into the tight muscle. Robert lets out a deep groan, when he feels the tension fading. Aaron switches to the other leg and then he alternates between the long strokes and little circles.

It feels heavenly. Pain? What pain? Robert has a hard time remembering. A hard time in general, like dick-wise. Oh god, Robert wants these strong and experienced hands all over him, caressing, pinching, stroking him.

He opens his eyes and is met with Aaron‘s blue one‘s. The PT is slightly looming over him, looking down on him. And Robert wants him so bad. He can‘t remember when he wanted a person this bad, if ever. Not Katie, not Chrissie. The urge to wrap his legs around Aaron, to pull him down on top of him is making his head dizzy with need. Robert pictures it in his mind, their heated, sweaty bodies against each other, Aaron bending down and kissing him, the stubble scratching deliciously over his skin, making him shiver all over.

A sudden laughter snaps him out of it. There are two women walking to their cars, looking in their direction and giggling. And then the surrounding hits him full force. He is on his back on a parking space in front of a gym, lying there with pathetic cramps and fantasizing about fucking his PT. And people are  _ laughing _ about him. 

Robert pulls his legs out of Aaron‘s grip almost violently, then he jumps up and brushes off the dust of his clothes.

“Are you better now?“ Aaron asks and damn, his scratchy voice sounds so soft. So caring. 

“Yep,“ he says shortly, popping the ‘p’. Robert swallows. He can‘t even look him in the eye.

There is a silence then between them and Robert feels Aaron gaze on him, but with every passing second it gets more and more unbearable. 

_ Get a fucking grip now, you‘re Robert Sugden. _

Right?! Lusting after his PT like a stupid teenager? How the hell could that happen, how could he lose control like this in public?

“So are we done now?“ he asks brusquely.

It comes out more rude than he planned it and he notices how Aaron takes a step back.

“No,“ the trainer sounds irritated, “because your muscles need proper stretching after the running, as I said earlier.“ 

Another group of people comes out of the gym, quietly talking to each other. 

“I think I‘ve cooled down enough now,“ Robert says.

“Think it‘s my job to decide that.“

For a person providing a service this Dingle has quite a mouth, it’s so bloody irritating. Aaron crosses his arms and Robert is not - definitely not - looking at how his shirt stretches over his pecs. And his nipples.

“Look, I am a very busy consultant, I have a skype meeting with a guy from the U.S. soon and I live only 10 minutes from here, I am gonna finish this at home,“ Robert states.

The skype call is a blatant lie, but Aaron doesn‘t need to know. Robert suddenly just wants to leave, needs to leave ASAP.

“Just email me the workout plan and all you think is necessary. And your banking, so I can instruct my accountant to pay you.“

“I have to show you the exercises, it‘s-”

“Please, it‘s just a bit of stretching, any idiot can do it, it‘s hardly rocket science,“ Robert huffs and looks up in Aaron‘s face right in time to witness the moment where a flash of anger washes over it.

“Just email me,“ Robert says stiffly and with that he turns around and walks towards his car.

His heart is aching strangely. Probably because of all the running.

— — —

Robert loves his morning routine. After he gets up, he makes a cup of coffee that stays on the counter to cool down while he showers and styles his hair. Then he sits at the table, sips his perfectly tempered coffee and goes through his mails on his iPad.

He enjoys the always same procedure, the blissful silence and the fact of simply being alone. His job means talking all day with his PA, his employees and the clients of course. In the evenings he sometimes has to attend business dinners, but the mornings - they belong to Robert, and Robert alone. 

Today though… his lower body so sore again, he isn‘t even in the mood for a quick jerk off session in the shower. The day is practically ruined already. Then he trips over with his shaky legs on the wet tiles and bangs his head against the wall.

“Fuck!“

He rubs his forehead furiously and feels the headache incoming  _ already _ . After searching five minutes for some pills, he finally enters the kitchen only to find his coffee lukewarm and disgusting. 

Fucking awesome.

Robert opens his mails and the first thing he notices is the absence of a new mail from  _ a_dingle@gmail.com _

Honestly, the PT needs to rethink his choices of domain  _ and _ email address. 

There is a little pang in his chest, but Robert quickly brushes the feeling off. His trial session was only 12 hours ago, of course Aaron would need more time to figure out a complete training plan.

_ If he wants to train you at all. _

Well, thank you, asshole-voice in the head, no one‘s asked you. Robert grimly switches the radio on, he won‘t have a quiet morning anyway. 

— — —

“Aaaaand? How was it?“

Vic beams at him so broadly, her face might cut in two. 

“Just put the food over there, I‘m gonna eat later,“ he grunts out, ignoring her question.

He doesn‘t want to talk about Aaron Dingle. Not now and surely not with his little sister. And that has nothing to do with the fact that the PT made him horny as hell or that he still got no email from him. 

Vics face falls. “Oh no!“ she groans frustrated, flailing her arms. “What happened?!“

“Dramatic much?“ He frowns at her. “Nothing happened.“

Nothing. Nada. Nichts. 

She raises her eyebrow and puts her hands on her hips. 

And Robert knows he lost this battle. She won’t leave until he gives her  _ something,  _ because she‘s a Sugden and it doesn’t count that he is a Sugden too, because he’s  _ male _ . The men always lose this ‘staring each other down’ battle, it’s like an unwritten law. 

He groans and Vic sits down on the visitor‘s chair, just to demonstrate that she doesn’t intend leaving anytime soon.

So he gives in and tells her a short summary of his trial session. Might as well get over with.

“I don‘t even know if he‘s going to coach me,“ Robert admits eventually. 

“Well, haven‘t you talked about that? Wasn‘t that the purpose of this whole training?“ Vic frowns.

_ “ _ Technically,” he says vaguely and clears his throat. “Just got no email from him so far, soooo…“ he trails off and pretends to go back to work. 

His head is throbbing dully, despite the pills he took this morning and he really wants this conversation to be over.

“Okay,“ Vic nods, “and what else did he say? Are you fit enough to manage a marathon with that short preparation time?“

“I don‘t know.“

“What do you mean, you don‘t know?“

“We didn‘t talk about that, okay?“

“What exactly did you talk about? Did you talk at all?“

He keeps silent now, stares at his screen as if he would read something, when in fact the screensaver tortures him with a picture slideshow of the beautiful Caribbean Sea. 

And damn, if that blue water doesn’t remind him of blue eyes.

Robert knows he screwed. No, scratch that, he is double screwed, because his little sister is still in his office, determined to make his life miserable.

“Oh god, Robert,“ Vic says exasperated and rubs her face, “tell me you didn‘t do a ‘I‘m Robert Sugden, the successful businessman, and you‘re lucky if I‘m kind enough to hire you as my trainer‘ thing?“ 

She actually switched her voice an octave down and wiggled with her head like a puppet on a string during her little mimicry. 

“Excuse me?“ he frowns, offended, “I don‘t talk like that!“

She huffs a laugh and yeah, maybe he acted a tiny little bit like a snobby brat towards Aaron. 

Okay? There. Fine. 

His watch bings, which means he got a new mail and Robert almost pushes his coffee mug over when he taps eagerly on the little display to open it.

It‘s from Nicola, a reminder about a business dinner later. 

Robert sighs, squeezes his eyes shut and massages his temples. Just what he needs tonight.

“Oh, Rob,“ Vic says heavily and shakes her head.

When she‘s gone, Robert pulls out painkillers out of his desk drawer and swallows them dry.

— — —

Robert throws his keys on the small sideboard and rips his tie off with a deep sigh. The Boeuf Bourguignon was delicious and the evening a success business-wise, but after schmoozing the elderly couple through a 3-course-meal at the French restaurant, Robert’s mouth feels dry and his mind empty. He just wants to sleep. At least his head and his sore muscles are better now.

Before he can go to the bathroom to brush his teeth, his watch bings.

_ For fucks sake, it’s past 11, who the heck is bothering me at- _

Oh. A new mail from a_dingle. Robert grabs his iPad and opens his outlook. 

_ Robert, _

_ You’ll find your training plan and diet below.  _

_ See you tomorrow, _

_ A _

There is a mobile number, a bank account and two attachments below, that’s it.

_ Ex-fucking-cuse me?! _

Robert stares at the handful of words. This is what he gets? Is this how Aaron Dingle communicates with his clients? Rude. Bloody rude. Next time he probably only sends an emoji or something. He taps on the added documents and two colourful charts pop up. Robert skims through it. The “diet” sheet is the first.

Cereals for breakfast, vegetables, fish, eggs, nuts as snacks. No alcohol. 

Not really a surprise there. It won’t be easy bringing that together with his business dinners, but it will be doable, Robert reckons. The training plan comes next.

Running sessions on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. 

Thursday says “trailrunning”, whatever that is. Robert’s got a guess and that seems rather naff.

Gym sessions on Tuesday and Saturday.

_ Gym sessions, really? _

Robert hates the gym, he loathes it really. The men are puffed up idiots, trying to compensate their small dicks with big muscles. And the ladies spend more time of the day with their looks although they should probably worry more about the inside. 

_ Just saying, no offense. _

Robert‘s aware that these are stereotypes, but well, they fit quite often. 

He doesn’t like the people at the gym, he doesn’t like being looked at and compared and judged and he sure as hell doesn’t like the public showers. 

Sunday is an off day. Well, thank fuck, how generous of Aaron Dingle.

The time slots are already set in the plan and Robert realises immediately that it is about to collide with his work appointments on several occasions. This PT is so damn infuriating, Robert doesn’t even know what to do with his rising anger. He types furiously on his iPhone, feeling his blood boiling. 

“This is Aaron Dingle,” the scratchy voice says after the fourth ring.

“Are you insane?” it basically bursts out of him.

There’s a short pause on the other end of the line. “No,” the PT finally says, slowly, as if Robert is a stupid child, “I’m Aaron.”

“You think this is funny?” Robert shouts, pacing around in his bedroom.

“Actually, yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Aaron Dingle  _ sounds _ amused indeed-

_ The little shit! _

-and Robert clenches his teeth together and counts to ten, trying to gather his composure. 

“This schedule-,” he starts, “it doesn’t work like that, we have to set the appointments together. I have to fit them in in my calendar. This way it collides with my  _ work _ !”

“Look, Robert. Let me tell you how I see it,” Aaron says and he still sounds like he’s enjoying this a lot, “ _ you _ have to fit in  _ my _ calendar. You’re not my only client, you know? You want to finish that marathon in 3 months? Then you need proper training 5 to 6 days a week. These are the times I am still available, so I’d say either take them or leave it.”

Robert squeezes his eyes shut. He is desperate for a professional trainer and Aaron knows it. He hates that the PT is calling the shots here. Robert is used to being more in control, to bring other people to do what  _ he _ wants  _ them _ to do. But of course Aaron Dingle is different from all the others he works with. 

“Okay. Here’s an offer,” Aaron sighs and he sounds more serious now, “this is the schedule for this week and we’ll check together if we can adjust the time slots after that, alright?”

Robert lets out a long breath, stops pacing and feels the tension slowly fading from his body. He wasn’t aware how tight his shoulders were.

“Fine,” he huffs eventually and rolls his eyes to the empty bedroom. As if he has other options.

Robert settles down on his bed, leans against the headboard and opens the top button of his shirt. There is a silence between them, and it’s weird. Weird that neither of them makes a move to end the call. The silence itself isn’t weird though. Aaron’s raspy breath right next to his ear is actually more relaxing if anything. 

Very weird. Good weird.

“Aaron?” he asks, suddenly reminded of that conversation with Vic earlier.

“Hm?” 

“Do you think I’m going to finish the marathon?” Robert’s heart thumps suddenly faster and he has to swallow despite his throat feeling tight. The whole atmosphere shifted from all the winding up to something more quiet and  _ open _ .

“I wouldn’t want to train you, if I didn’t believe in you, Robert.”

This time Aaron’s hoarse voice sounds sincere, there is not even the tiniest hint of mockery or humour in it. Something in Robert’s chest tugs painfully.

“Okay, see you tomorrow then.”

“Night, Robert.”

The line goes dead and Robert sits there and stares at his dark display.

He knows Aaron Dingle for like five minutes and they couldn‘t stand each other for about four and a half.

And still, that PT said something his own dad didn‘t say to him in 28 years. 

— — —

It‘s Friday and that means running again. Aaron sent him a new meeting point this time, somewhere outside of the town in the woods. Robert pulls over on the country lane, next to a black VW Golf. 

_ Well, at least he isn‘t late today. _

Maybe there is still hope that Aaron isn’t a total douche. Robert takes a deep breath, tries to steel himself for another session of sweat and pain. And it is his firm intention to not get carried away again this time. 

Aaron = trainer. Robert = client. 

It‘s business. Robert can do business, he is  _ professional _ after all. When he eventually gets out and makes it around the car, he groans quietly at the sight in front of him.

Aaron is stretching already. And of course he‘s bent over, his arse sticking out in Robert‘s direction. And of course those little black shorts leave nothing to imagination and of course the waistband shifted down and of course the briefs are visible.

They‘re maroon.

Robert is so so screwed. He likes maroon in general and yeah, he likes that arse in maroon in particular. 

That firm intention lasted for all of five seconds. Wow.

“Hey,“ he says and clears his throat.

Aaron straightens and turns around. His face lights up and he whistles through his teeth.

“Whoa, what a beaut!“

_ Oh! _

“A baby like that is hard to get,“ Aaron says and-

Oh.

“You mean the car!“ Robert laughs and fuck, is this awkward. “Right.“

Oh my god. For a teeny-weeny moment he thought, Aaron meant  _ him _ . Ha ha. So funny. 

Where is a shovel so he can dig a hole to hide in?

“Yeah, your Porsche!“ Aaron walks past him and strokes carefully over the silver hood.

“It was a present,“ Robert swallows, “From my Ex.“

Others buy their bf a new watch on their birthday, Chrissie White went shopping for a car. Alrighty. Not that Robert would complain though.

“And there was me buying a lousy sketchbook for my Ex’ birthday,“ Aaron says amused, vocalizing Robert‘s own thoughts, “no wonder he was moody all day.“

_ ‘He’. _

_ Aaron Dingle is really into guys. _

Robert‘s breath hitches and his brain decides to go offline for a few seconds. There are images in his head. Of Aaron getting fucked by a bloke. Of Aaron fucking a bloke. Of Aaron fucking him. Of Aaron whispering filthy words with his scratchy voice right into his ear.

“Alright, we should…” The PT clears his throat and looks at his watch and gives Robert a once-over that makes his skin tingle and his body buzz. “Ready to sweat?“

At this point Robert is convinced Aaron‘s doing it on purpose.

— — —

As if going to the gym isn‘t torture enough. Robert shakes his head. What has he ever done to the bloody Karma-bitch to deserve this?

“Really, Aaron? Must I?” he whines. He knows he sounds like a child, but he can’t help it and he is one second away from stomping his foot on the ground.

Aaron sighs exasperated and leans his head back as if the ceiling would offer some much needed comfort. “Robert.” The PT closes his eyes and Robert waits for him to continue the sentence, but somehow that was it and silence stretches.

“What?” he barks out eventually.

“Get up there. Now,” Aaron snarls and looks at him again with narrowed eyes. 

So the thing is, Robert actually liked running along with Aaron by now. The second run in the woods was totally different to the first one and that was a nice surprise really, because Robert always thought running was monotonous and  _ daft _ . But Aaron had set little speed challenges, little sprints, which challenged Robert’s hunger to win.

Of course what felt good yesterday, was a pain in the arse today. Pun intended.

And now they’re here for the first session in Barton’s gym. They are standing in front of cross trainers and have been arguing for about five minutes already.

“This is stupid! This is for…like,… women!” Robert argues.

He hears murmur behind him, probably from the ladies on the cross trainers and Robert’s not quite sure, but he thinks someone calls him a “sexist pig”. He rolls his eyes. 

He’s still right though. There are 10 cross trainers and currently 7 women are using them. 

_ Point proven. _

The PT already explained why they are training in the gym in addition to the classic outdoor runs - it’s because he wants to improve Robert’s fitness with cardio workout and carefully build up a bit more muscles in his legs  _ and _ his torso. And it makes sense, okay? Surely Aaron has a point, even Robert agrees.

_ But… cross trainers? Yeah...no! _

There are lines. Robert has boundaries, alright? 

Aaron stares at him, brings his hands to his hips. Robert stares back. Tries not to blink. 

Damn, those eyes are blue! Especially under the bright artificial light of the gym ceiling. The combination with the dark hair and the tan makes them even more preeminent. Robert can basically feel himself getting drawn into them.

“Fine!” he huffs eventually and throws his hands in the air. “Okay.”

He gives in because he can’t handle looking any longer into Aaron’s face without having his mind in the gutter. Robert hates that he’s so out of control over his body around the PT. 

He steps on the machine and it feels weird already. Aaron gives him an approving smirk and then takes a black belt that was hanging at the side of the machine and comes closer to him. Without further warning, Aaron hugs him and Robert might or might not let out a little squeal. A very manly squeal of course. 

“This will measure your heart rate,” Aaron explains and he is so  _ close _ , he is almost touching Robert’s chest with his head.

The gelled hair is right under his nose and Robert can’t help it, he takes a secret sniff of Aaron’s shampoo and gel. 

_ Fuck, he smells good. _

The small belt is being closed right below his nipples and Robert definitely does not imagine those hands stroking and pinching them.

“Keep your hands on these,” Aaron says and grabs his hand to guide it to the gear, his grip feels firm and dry and perfect and Robert swallows, “there are sensors that keep checking your pulse.” Aaron starts tapping on the display. “Starting a program now…” he mutters with his deep scratchy voice.

Robert reads words like ‘sprint’ and ‘interval’ and ‘intense’ and he doesn’t like it. 

“And here I thought this would be fun!” he says sarcastically.

Aaron shots him a mischievous grin. “The machine tells you what to do. Even you should be able to manage it,” he says good naturedly and pats Robert’s shoulder. “And don’t cheat, Robert - my phone is connected via bluetooth with this baby.”

Then Aaron winks at him and leaves. He  _ winked _ . The audacity! Robert glares after him. 

_ What the heck! Urgh, this Dingle!! _

He probably gets off on making his clients suffer. The cross trainer makes a noise that the program is about to start and Robert groans in annoyance. Eventually he gives in, moves on the machine and he feels so goddamn stupid, especially when the display tells him to speed up for a minute.

Suddenly a minute drags like eternity. 

Ten minutes later he’s creating visuals in his head of smashing the cross trainer with a sledgehammer. Robert is cursing under his breath, because he is sweating his arse off while his PT is standing over there, sipping a tea and having a laugh.

Aaron is actually  _ laughing,  _ it’s a loud and deep sound and he throws his head slightly back and wipes his eyes as if he’s crying of laughter. Robert has only seen him so much as smirking. It’s a bloke who brings out that carefree side of the grumpy PT, a bloke with brown curls and the biggest dopey grin ever. The man looks quite dull, but his body is fit unfortunately and Robert wonders if this is Aaron’s boyfriend. 

The program reminds him to speed up again and yeah, having a sledgehammer would feel so fan-fucking-tastic right now.

__ __ __

Why is everyone determined to make his life hell? Robert sighs and flops on the couch in his office. 

“Ow!“

Obviously the designer couch is not made for flopping down. Or lying comfortably on it at all, maybe it‘s just made for sitting. Or simply for looking good in the corner of a room. Robert wriggles on the black leather to find a cosy position. It‘s the first time he’s ever used the sofa, when he comes to think about it. 

Vic is late with his lunch, which is new, she is usually on time. He growls and looks at his watch. The next meeting is in 25 minutes. 

_ Urgh. _

Robert loves his job, he really does. He is good in it, it earns him respect from his employees and praise from his clients. But sometimes he just dreams about disappearing and becoming a surf teacher on Hawaii. Or a tapas bar owner in Spain. 

Break free.

Fuck scheduled appointments, redundant meetings and annoying clients. Ever the same treadmill. The worst thing about these ‘I‘m having a moment’-escapades is that he is suddenly aware of his loneliness.

In 98% of the time Robert enjoys that he is his own boss - he doesn‘t need to give an account about his whereabouts or hobbies. Not that he does have a lot of hobbies, but still. The point is, it‘s  _ independence _ .

The other 2% though.  _ Loneliness _ . He wishes he has someone, not some clingy partner who cuts off his ability to breathe or some toxic relationship like his brother has with Katie. Robert wants someone to share his thoughts and laughter with, something solid, something  _ pure _ . 

_ God, don‘t be such a sap. _

Robert shifts on the couch again. A distraction, that‘s what he needs. He pulls out his phone and checks his calendar. 

_ 7:30pm Aaron _

6 hours until he meets his PT. Today is Monday, so it’s running again, thank God. After Sunday was a day off, his body feels good now, surprisingly good. No aches, no sore muscles. Yes, Robert swears he can feel the effect of the first week already. He is even looking forward to his training later.

Who would have thought?

Ten minutes later, just when Robert is about to doze off, Vic comes rushing in, without knocking as usual. He startles and falls nearly off the couch.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Vic shrieks.

She’s panting, her hair bun is a mess and she looks stressed. So stressed that Robert bites back his remark about her being late.

“Everything alright?” he asks instead with slight concern and gets up.

“No, not really,” Vic sighs, “My boss isn’t feeling well. Absolute chaos at work, that’s why I’m late today.”

He takes the new tupperware and hands over the boxes from last Friday. 

“It’s alright, don‘t worry,” he says, which makes her freeze and narrow her eyes at him.

“Who are you and what have you done to my brother?” she asks suspiciously. 

He rolls his eyes. Yes, he is sarcastic. No, he is not a sarcastic arsehole. When he doesn’t take the bite, she leans against the sideboard and starts grinning.

“Sooo…”

Robert sighs unnerved and hangs his head.

“How’s it going at the Aaron front?” 

_ The Aaron front? _

“If you mean the training, then yeah. Good,” he squints at her. 

He is still trying to figure out what she meant with that innuendo. And how she meant it. 

“So, he’s good, huh?” she grins even wider.

“He’s a good trainer,” Robert admits reluctantly and adds quickly: “His personality is questionable though.” 

Vic’s face falls. “Oh yeah, really?” she asks, surprised. “Why?”

“He’s bossy, everything has to go like it pleases him. He didn’t even ask me, when he set the appointments. He’s grumpy and he’s so rude” Robert lists, “I mean, it’s so bloody irritating, I am his paying client, I can expect being addressed with a certain level of professionalism, right? And we only had three sessions together and he was already late once, Vic.  _ Once _ !”

Robert stops ranting, when he sees that the shiteating grin slowly creeps back on Vic’s face. 

“I see,” she nods, heavy with meaning and the words are hanging in the air.

“What does that mean?” he frowns.

“I need to go, see you, Rob!” Vic says cheerful, presses a wet peck on his cheek, leaves his office and Robert dumbfounded. 

“Wait!” he shouts about five seconds later to the door she just disappeared through, “What does that mean?!”

__ __ __

Today, Aaron has set a distance. Five miles, in whatever time he needs. And five doesn‘t sound much compared to the 26 he‘s aiming for, does it? 

Still, he needs almost an hour for it. One hour for five miles, that means he would need more than five hours for the whole distance.  _ If _ he would be nonstop jogging.

Robert feels all the motivation he had earlier draining out of his body. The first week of training is already over and it is still such a long way to go. 

They are stretching their legs on a fallen tree, when it bursts out of him: “All of this is shit! It‘s pointless anyway!“

He should just chicken out and admit to Andy and his dad that he can‘t do it. Yeah they would probably have a little laugh on his expanse, but at least it would be over then.

“What do you mean?“ Aaron frowns at him.

“This!“ he flails about, “I can‘t even do the five miles in a decent time! No way I‘m gonna finish a marathon in 11 weeks.“

“You had no running experience before, don‘t expect miracles after four training sessions,“ Aaron says and wow, he really knows how to increase Robert‘s self-confidence.

Not.

He huffs out a bitter laugh and lowers his eyes. It was a stupid idea from begin on. 

“Hey, Robert.“

The hoarse voice sounds soft suddenly, gone is all the teasing and the edge. Robert looks up, when Aaron steps closer to him.

“You did good, today. It‘s something to work with. We need to stay focused, okay? Push your body every week a bit further, make you fitter, stronger, healthier. Yeah? If you keep your motivation, you can do this.“

The blue eyes are focusing on him so intensely, Robert feels like Aaron is looking right into his  _ soul _ and it‘s so raw, because he let‘s no one behind his wall of sarcasm and sharp tongue, not even his little sister. 

And here is this lad - grumpy, bossy, infuriating, sexy Aaron - who just got in there without even bloody knocking.

Robert nods like a robot and Aaron takes a step before he pulls up his shirt to wipe away the sweat from his forehead. And all Robert can do is stare, because-

_ Hello, abs! _

-he sees the hint of a six pack, it‘s not like these overdone muscle junkies have it, but the abs are definitely there and very toned so. The skin looks incredibly smooth and is pretty much hairless, except for that small, dark happy trail that leads from the belly button down. Robert wants to lick over it. 

God, Aaron is so damn hot. Robert wants to kiss him, needs to know how that stubble feels against his skin,  _ has _ to kiss him now before it drives him  _ insane _ . 

So when Aaron pulls the shirt back down and looks back at him with a small smile around his lips -

Robert does just that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaron has no scars in this AU.
> 
> Thoughts on this? 🙈  
> Leave a comment 😊


	3. some mad lunges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert kisses Aaron... and what happens next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all that kind feedback! ❤️

It‘s indescribable. Beyond words. Aaron‘s lips are soft and smooth, a strong contrast to his scruff that scratches against Robert‘s skin. It is thrilling.

And Aaron tastes amazing! 

God, Robert‘s whole body is buzzing and tingling as if that little body contact would send electric sparks into his system. 

Just as he wants to grab Aaron, to pull him closer, he feels strong hands on his back and-

_Yes, Aaron!_

-he smiles against Aaron's lips. And then the PT kisses him back, opens his mouth and so does Robert and then their tongues are touching. Aaron kisses like he coaches - determined, bossy, almost kinda _rude_. And yeah, Robert likes it a bit rough, likes that a lot, it‘s so hot how they’re both fighting for dominance with their mouths. Nothing about that kiss is slow and sweet and gentle - how Chrissie loved it - this is pure, instinctive lust.

Suddenly it ends, the smooth lips are gone, the scratchy beard, the heat of Aaron‘s body. The PT is pushing him back so hard, Robert almost falls over. 

“Robert...“ It comes out as a shaky gasp.

“Why‘d you stop?“ he asks, still panting, because yes, that kiss was literally breathtaking. 

“We can‘t-” Aaron starts and rubs his lips, where Robert kissed him only five seconds ago, with his fingertips. “I don‘t… you‘re my client, it‘s not professional!“

And-

_Excuse me?_

-Robert can‘t remember _forcing_ the PT to kiss him back. It feels like a bucket of ice cold water washes over him, crashing his floating mind back down to earth. 

He laughs out loud, before he can stop himself. 

“Since when do you want to pretend to be professional?“

Honestly, those short emails, the grumpy tone, the constant mockery and not to mention the tardiness right at their very first session.

Professionalism? Aaron Dingle? Ridiculous. 

Aaron‘s face twists in anger. “What?“ he spits out.

Deep down, there is this voice that sounds like it is coming from far far away, and that voice tells Robert to stop now. 

But Aaron Dingle just pushed him back, _rejected_ him, after they had something definitely very good going on. It stings. And Robert does what he‘s always doing: he dishes out.

“Oh please, the way you treat me is nothing close to professional!“ he huffs.

“Well, if you think I am not good enough to train that snobby arse of yours feel free to look for another PT!“ Aaron snarls, thin lipped. 

_Quod erat demonstrandum - you just proved me right here, Dingle!_

“See? Is that your understanding of being professional?“ Robert points out, still laughing.

Aaron just shakes his head at him, turns around and heads towards his car.

“Oooh, walking away, that’s very _professional_ now, Mr Dingle,“ Robert smirks sarcastically.

The PT suddenly swirls around and storms back to him, his face is full of rage.

“You know what? You‘re infuriating!“ he shouts.

“Me?“ Robert dramatically lays his hand on his chest. “I beg your pardon?“

 _He_ is infuriating?! The only person to whom this description fits is Aaron bloody Dingle himself!

He glares at his trainer, readying himself for another round of yelling. 

But then, Aaron suddenly stops himself, takes a breath and his furious expression falls.

“You know what,“ Aaron says, shaking his head again, taking a few steps back, “whatever, mate. I‘m done here.“

_No! No! You‘re not ending it like that!_

“What do you mean, you‘re done?“ Robert shouts when Aaron walks to his car once more. This time though, he doesn‘t turn around again. “I have paid for this month already! I have an appointment with you tomorrow!“ Aaron opens the door of his Golf. “I expect you to be at the gym tomorrow, Dingle!“ Aaron gets in the car. “Let‘s see if you really meant it, when you said you‘re-”

The door slams shut, it‘s a deafening noise in the quiet woods and birds fly around, startled.

“-professional.“

The motor starts and Robert is really not surprised when he hears it roaring like an angry mower, because of course Aaron loves souped-up cars. It‘s _ridiculous_! 

Aaron Dingle is a walking cliché of those jocks Robert used to hate back in school already.

Aaron Dingle is so fucking irritating with his grumpy rudeness, but also his soft words and the lingering looks he gave Robert. 

_He was sending out mixed signals, that‘s the truth!_

It‘s definitely not Robert‘s fault that they ended up kissing and damn... Dingle kissed back! _He_ initiated the tongue, for fucks sake.

_Professional, my arse!_

Robert still stands in the clearing when the Golf is long gone, cursing Aaron Dingle, willing his body to stop tingling where the PT touched him. 

— — —

“Honestly, this was an easy task. Robinson says ‘yes’ to _everything_ we suggest to him, how on earth could you blow that up?“

Robert is raging. They just lost a client, a longstanding one, in fact Richard Robinson was one of the first people who trusted Robert with their money. And now he‘s gone, because one of his employees fucked it up. 

Barton is sitting on the chair on the other side of his desk, sweating miserably. 

“I‘m so sorry, Robert, I‘m so sorry,“ Finn keeps muttering. 

Honestly, the lad looks so pitiful, Robert‘s anger melts a little.

“Just…“ he searches for words and throws his hands up in the air, “don‘t let that happen again, Barton!“

Finn nods furiously, shoves his thick, black glasses back up on his nose. He clearly expected another lecture and to be honest, so did Robert. Urgh. He‘s getting really soft now.

“Hey,“ a sudden thought hits him, “are you related to the owner of Barton‘s gym?“

“Err, yeah, that‘s my brother. Why?“ Finn says, clearly surprised about that sudden turn of the conversation. 

Robert sighs. “Nevermind,“ he just waves him off.

This morning sucks so far and all he can think about is his session with Aaron in the gym tonight. After their unfortunate incident yesterday, he doesn‘t even know if the PT will show up later. Just when Robert decided that sport isn’t just an invention of the devil to torture people like him, things had to go to shit again.

That sucks, everything sucks and so does Robert‘s mood.

Barton leaves his office, walking backwards, still rambling apologies because of Robinson, and Robert sighs again as soon as he‘s gone. 

Nicola comes in and places a mug with a black, steaming Americano on his table. She even uses a coaster.

_Bless her!_

There is some good in the world. 

“Soooo, wanna talk about it?“ Nicola asks him and well, the good never lasts long, does it?

Robert groans. “I don‘t know what you mean,” he says out loud and the unfinished ending of that sentence is _‘and I don‘t wanna know either‘_.

“You’ve been acting broody all morning,” his PA starts unfazed and-

_I‘m sorry, what?_

Robert frowns at her. 

“Even before Barton told you about Robinson. So I know something‘s up,“ she ends her observation.

“When I need someone to entangle me in an annoying conversation, I‘ll call my sister,“ he informs her and takes a sip of his Americano.

“Come on, Robert, you can talk to me! I am your friend after all.“

He nearly spits his coffee out at that. Robert forces the liquid down and coughs. 

“You‘re my PA,“ he croaks out, “and even that‘s debatable at the moment.”

Nicola‘s face falls. “Rude,“ she says snippily and goes back to her desk.

He huffs and shakes his head. What the hell, Nicola? As if he would discuss his sex life-

_Your non-existent sex life, you mean._

Oh yeah, thanks for the reminder, asshole-voice! As if he would discuss his sex life, whether existent or non-existent, with his PA! Or anyone for that matter. 

Since Chrissie, Robert hadn‘t thrown himself out there much, okay? Apart from the occasional one-night-stand there wasn‘t much going on, sex-wise. And that’s fine, totally fine! His business was more important and didn‘t leave much time for fooling around, let alone a relationship. 

Aaron flaming Dingle, of all people, is the first person in what feels like forever that had him _wanting_ again. And then-

Robert slams his hands on his desk in frustration to stop his thoughts and starts typing out an email to complain about the cleaning company that he hired for his office. The bin wasn‘t emptied and there‘s dust on his monitor. 

Seems like he has to do everything himself to get it done properly these days.

— — —

Vic calls him later that day and tells him she won‘t make it. Apparently it‘s still something with her boss and that left everybody at her workplace running around like headless chickens. It‘s beyond Robert why they can‘t run this pub without the boss - a _pub,_ for heaven‘s sake. Surely it can‘t be that hard pulling a pint and making the same food day in day out. 

Robert tells her that it‘s fine, although it‘s half lied. Damn, he loves her lunch boxes and now he is forced to eat some fast food shit from the corner.

He sends Nicola to get him something and she comes back and drops it unceremoniously on his desk without even looking at him.

It’s a squashy fish with the poor chips drowning in lukewarm gravy. This is his absolute least favourite, ranking somewhere on the same level as Haggis, and she _knows_ it. 

It‘s definitely a small revenge for his behaviour earlier. Robert sighs. Somewhere deep down he knows he probably deserves it. 

— — — 

“Wanna drink?“

Robert looks up and is met with a dopey grin and brown puppy eyes. It‘s the guy Aaron was talking to last week. 

“We have some new Protein shakes, maybe you wanna try one?“ the puppy adds. 

Robert can think of like 3000 things he‘d rather do than drink overpriced, sugared and flavoured _milk_ , but his traitorous mouth opens and says:

“Yeah, okay.“

It‘s because he‘s a bit lost. He is sitting at the bar of the gym in full sports gear, his phone is in the locker and he doesn‘t know what else to do. 

The guy lists off about eight different flavours and Robert goes for a simple Vanilla, because he‘s not too keen on finding out how Peach-Linseed tastes. 

While the puppy prepares his shake, Robert tries not to look at the gigantic clock above the bar. But honestly, where can you buy a fucking clock as big as an elephant? Of course out of the corners of his eyes he sees the huge clock hand ticking and ticking and-

“Here you go.“

Aaron is late. Very much so. Almost 15 minutes late. But Robert is willing to give him some credit. Maybe his car broke down - Lord knows, it would hardly be a surprise with that bloody VW Golf - and the battery of his phone died. 

It might be possible.

Aaron said he wanted to be professional. He will show up. Surely, he will.

Robert sips his drink and pulls a face. No way this shake has ever seen real vanilla. 

“And? Good, huh?“ Puppy grins at him.

Robert makes a non-committal humming noise.

“Are you new here? I don’t think I‘ve seen you around before.“

Normally he would roll his eyes, because ew, smalltalk. Robert has enough smalltalk at work, he doesn‘t need any more nonsense talking in his freetime, thanks. But well, he is still waiting and any distraction to kill some time is welcome, so…

“Yeah, it‘s my second time here. I‘m Robert,“ he says and reaches his hand out.

Puppy grabs it and shakes it, strong and firm, just like Aaron‘s grip is. Robert wonders once again, if his PT and this guy are a thing? They seem to be close at least.

_Considering how Aaron laughed last week…_

With his head thrown back, a smile so broad and carefree and sparkling eyes. Great, now that image is back in his mind. Robert sucks vigorously at his straw, to drown his bitter thoughts in sweet sugar.

“I‘m Adam!“ Puppy smiles and Robert decides that _puppy_ still fits better. “If you have any questions or need any help, just let me know, yeah?“

It‘s a bit unnerving that Adam is so damn _nice_ , it would be easier to hate Aaron Dingle‘s friend-slash-boyfriend if he was a douche. Robert sighs.

“Thanks, but I do actually have a personal trainer.”

“Ah, alright, mate. Just, you know, the offer stands. I am the owner of this gym, so if anything bothers you, come to me, yeah?” Puppy gives him a dopey smile.

And yeah, now that he mentioned it, the resemblance is undeniable. He‘s Adam _Barton_. 

_Oh God, so Aaron’s boyfriend is Finn Barton’s brother._

Honestly, the world is a small place. 

“Hey, who’s your trainer?” 

Robert swallows, still tries to ignore the clock hand above Adam Barton’s head and the lump that is suddenly tightening his throat. 

“Aaron Dingle,” he says, waiting for Puppy’s reaction. 

And the other man’s face does something weird indeed. The puppy expression quickly fades, something glints in his eyes, but it’s like blink-and-you-miss-it, then his face turns sad.

“Oh, you’re _Robert_ ,“ Adam says with a weird emphasis that Robert can’t quite place. Was that a good emphasis or a bad one? And what does it mean? Has Aaron talked about him? “And you’re waiting for Aaron? He’s not coming.”

And wow. Pang. That is. Whoah.

So much for professionalism. Aaron could have told him that at least, instead of letting him wait here, like an _idiot_. He even told Adam, but kinda didn‘t inform him - his paying client! Robert paid for the whole month in advance, the least he deserves is a fucking whatsapp!

_Fuck you, Aaron._

“Did he say why?” God, Robert _has_ to ask. Maybe he likes to suffer.

He wonders if Aaron told Adam about the kiss.

_Oh babe, you won‘t believe what happened to me today at work..._

He practically hears it in his head. Aaron has twisted it probably, like it was all on Robert, like he didn‘t kiss back at all. 

“Nah, he just said something happened and that he’ll explain later. But I haven’t heard from him since then.”

Something happened. A kiss happened. 

Robert leaves the gym 15 minutes later-

_Fuck Aaron and the training and that stupid marathon!_

-and types angrily into his phone:

**to Aaron Dingle, PT**

We had an appointment 30 minutes ago! Is that your understanding of being professional?! 

He gets into his car and hits send, waits for another five minutes, when his phone stays dark and silent he starts the engine and puts the gear in so harshly that his car makes an awful protesting noise.

“Sorry, baby,” he apologises immediately and caresses the steering wheel.

It’s not her fault that Aaron is just an unreliable douche. 

— — —

After he let out his frustration with two rounds of angry sit ups-

_There, Aaron, look. I can do it without you as well. I don‘t need you!_

-he was reading and the battle of Moria almost lulled him into sleep when his phone lights up.

**Aaron Dingle, PT**

Sry speak tmrw

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!“ Robert shouts to his empty bedroom, because he needs to vent otherwise he‘ll burst. 

What kind of message is that anyway? 

_Sry? Tmrw?_

Robert thought only broody teenagers wrote stuff like that. Obviously that goes for broody teenagers and grumpy trainers. 

He dials the number quickly. 

“Robert,“ he gets instead of a greeting, it sounds exasperated. 

“What the hell, Aaron?” Robert spats angrily. “I waited like an idiot for you to show up and then that Barton guy tells me you won‘t come because of personal reasons? Are you for real? It‘s not like I bloody forced you-”

“My mum‘s in hospital, arsehole!“ Aaron shouts suddenly.

All the swirling thoughts in Robert come to a sudden halt. 

“Oh shit,“ he croaks out. 

Mothers are a sensitive subject for Robert. Sarcasm, fun, banter - _anger_ in this case - it ends when it comes to mums. 

“Yeah. Oh shit,“ Aaron deadpans on the other end with a deep sigh.

Robert hears a quiet sniff and the thought of Aaron crying is more than he can handle. He clears his throat.

“Is she-... will she be alright?“ 

“Yeah, but she‘s...err, she‘s pregnant and they don‘t know...,“ Aaron‘s voice sounds shaken before he trails off and oh God, Robert feels _awful_. 

He sits down on his bed and stares at his grey wall. 

“I‘m sorry,“ he says stiffly. 

_...for yelling at you, for assuming the worst from you._

He can’t bring himself to say the last bits, the words got stuck in his throat, but he means it, he does. It’s Aaron’s _mum_ , fuck! 

There is silence - again, like the last time they were on the phone. This time though, it feels tense and Robert knows he should say _something_ , but he doesn‘t know what and how, because he only knows sarcasm and witty remarks and they won‘t help him here. 

For the first time since his own mother died, Robert is at a loss for words. 

“I‘m sorry I didn‘t text. Or call,“ Aaron finally says and he sounds calmer now.

“It‘s fine,“ he says quickly, almost out of reflex.

It wasn‘t five minutes ago, but it is now. 

“Okay.”

He waits for Aaron to end the call, but the other man has no intentions of doing so. Instead there is this loud, raspy breathing straight into his ear and in a strange way it‘s soothing him. It’s washing over him, like the rolling sounds of the sea. Robert feels the tension slowly fading and he falls back on his back, feet still on the floor, his left hand raking through his hair. 

Another moment passes and the breathing continues, deep and steady, and Robert suddenly wonders if Aaron fell asleep.

“Aaron?“

“Yeah?“ comes the immediate response.

“Night, Aaron,“ he says and feels like an idiot.

“Night, Robert. I’ll see you tomorrow,“ the PT says and then he hangs up.

‘See you tomorrow’. So that means the training is still on. Robert walks into his bathroom to brush his teeth and only when he looks into the mirror, he notices that he‘s smiling.

— — —

The thing is, Robert was actually looking forward to this running session all day. That fact alone is weird. 

Even more weird is his current feeling. 

He is nervous. 

And Robert doesn‘t even know why, really. It‘s just running. Plain, stupid running. He _hates_ running, he reminds himself. 

_That‘s right. I hate it._

He keeps repeating this in his head, pacing around in the clearing next to his car, waiting for his PT. It‘s fine, they could get past this. The kiss was a blip, a one-off. 

All Robert has to do is forget it ever happened. How Aaron’s lips felt, how they pressed against his own, how his tongue slid into his mouth, how his hands grabbed his back and pulled him close. 

_Fuck!_

Robert lets out a frustrated groan. Why, oh why is that scruffy trainer of all bloody people making him feel like a horny teenager again? 

He can’t dwell on that thought any longer - thank God! - because the unmistakable motor drone signalises Aaron’s arrival. The PT is driving way too fast on the small forest track and Robert rolls his eyes, because of course he is boy racer-

_Wouldn’t wanna pass that clichè, right?_

-before he steps on the break with full force. The Golf slides the last bit over the muddy ground and then it comes to a halt next to his car. 

Robert discretely turns around, just to roll his eyes again. If only his dick would apprehend as well that Aaron Dingle is annoying. 

He turns over again and nearly chokes on his spit. Aaron got out of his car and he’s wearing a black sport shirt and the neckline… well, fuck, it’s kinda more of a ‘belly button-line’, because that little peace of fabric hides _nothing_ of his well-toned, rock hard pecs and nipples. 

This has to be some evil test or something. To see if Robert can resist. 

“Hey, how’s your mum?” he presses out and that’s brilliant!

Because if the thought about Aaron‘s sick mum isn’t truly a mood killer, then nothing is. And it works immediately. Ha!

_Goodbye, boner!_

See? He can do it.

“Yeah, better actually. She might get released tomorrow,“ Aaron says and his whole face lights up with relief and then the PT coughs and scratches his eyebrow. “Look, Robert. I‘m really sorry..“ he starts and Robert isn‘t sure if he means kissing back or not cancelling yesterday, “I really wanna train you and see you crossing the finish line in 11 weeks, so can we just start over?“ 

“Okay, yeah, sure. Totally. Fine by me.“

_Smoothe, Robert._

Aaron starts smiling at him, bright and honest and Robert‘s legs feel already like jelly, although they haven‘t even started their session and _how the heck is that even possible_?! 

“Well then, let‘s get a bit sweaty, shall we?“

— — —

Robert wants to smack Aaron‘s head, to make him stop! Stretching and warming up is the worst, it‘s pure agony. 

Not because of the ridiculous stuff Robert is forced to do with his poor body, oh no. Ha. It’s because every sentence from Aaron comes out with innuendo. 

“Open your legs.“

“Circle your hips.“

“Can you feel your body opening up?“

“Bend over.“

“Push, push, push, Robert, yes!“

And of course the PT is a tactile person, he touches Robert all the time to correct his pose, he grabs and strokes and pulls. Robert would laugh at this sheer absurdity, this sweet torture, if his muscles wouldn’t protest with a growing burn. 

God, those _hands!_

“Okay, dynamic lunges now,” Aaron announces and he demonstrates them, while he explains: “You step to the front, then you go down, like you would kneel, but your knee doesn’t touch the ground. Back keeps straight, your front knee points straight ahead, don’t let it fall to the inside. And then, up again. Now with the other leg, take a big step to the front. Go down…”

They walk along the path like this, side by side, and Robert tries not to feel like an idiot when he’s doing the exercise. He fails.

“Feel that burn?” Aaron breathes-

_I feel it, for fucks sake!_

“It’s a great routine to warm up your hip flexors and gain more balance. And it’s also a nice exercise for the arse,” he smirks and Robert does _not_ glance down at Aaron’s butt.

Shame, it’s half hidden underneath the shirt anyway. 

\-- -- -- 

When they come back to their cars, they are both sweating and panting. It’s good to see that he is not the only one suffering here. 

“One hour, ten minutes,” Aaron checks his stop watch, “not bad!”

Not bad? _Not bad?_ This is the longest run Robert ever did at that pace! He feels _amazing,_ the endorphins are rushing through his body with every wild bump of his hammering heart. 

“Come on, a little stretching to cool down!”

Robert groans. Way to kill the mood. Fuck stretching.

“Can’t you do that massage thing again instead?” he whines. 

Oh yeah, that sounds so much better than bloody stretching. Aaron laughs, honestly laughs at that, and it’s the first time ever he does that in Robert’s company. 

“Anyone ever told you that you’re an idiot?” the PT asks, but there is no real heat behind his words.

“Not today, no,” Robert shrugs, feeling himself grin.

“You are the laziest arse I’ve ever trained, Robert.”

“I usually don’t get complaints about my arse,” he jokes before his brain tells him to stop.

And then it happens. Aaron’s gaze actually flicks down to his arse and he licks his lips absently. The tension shifts immediately. Robert’s grin slowly fades and so does Aaron’s smile. 

The blue eyes come up to his face, lock with his. And they are both still breathless, still panting and only now Robert realises how close they are standing next to each other. If he would reach out, he could easily-

Suddenly Aaron makes a quick movement, a mad lunge and then these lips are back on his, the beard tickles and scratches and it feels _amazing_. Robert opens his mouth just a bit, to breathe, to groan, to feel, and immediately Aaron’s tongue pushes in. Their bodies collide, drawn together, and the PT feels so fucking good in his arms. His body is still radiating heat from their running session, the shirt is sticky under his palms and it should be gross - except it isn’t. 

Robert is melting against the warmth of the other man. He doesn’t know when he kissed like this for the last time. Like a starving man. Pure passion.

_Never. That’s it. Never._

Aaron grabs his arse with both hands, squeezes hard, pulls him even closer. Through the thin fabric of their shorts Robert feels the hard cock pressing against his own. The synthetic material provides a nice slide and he rolls his hips once, twice, before they’re rutting against each other like horny teenagers. Aaron pants harshly with every thrust. The noises he makes, all the ng’s and hm’s, while his lips never leave Robert’s, are driving him crazy. 

And then the PT starts kissing down his jaw, mouths his neck and the scruff is rasping over his skin. Robert knows that he’s going to have a hellish stubble burn tomorrow, but right now? With Aaron kneading his arse like cookie dough and dry fucking his groin? Well, he couldn’t care less.

“Professional, eh?” he wheezes out, laughing breathlessly.

“Shut up,” Aaron mutters against his skin and sucks harshly.

That’s a hickey then.

Robert laughs again, he can’t help it. He feels dizzy and lightheaded and blames it on the running endorphins and his blood circling mostly below his waistband. 

His right hand sneaks to Aaron’s front and grabs his clothed cock. The other man sucks in a harsh breath and it’s music to Robert’s ears.

“Fuck! Rob!”

Yeah, he can do that. He shoves down Aaron’s pants and his own and then they’re bare arsed in the middle of the woods, the chilly air hitting the hot flesh of his butt. 

“Lube?” he breathes out.

_God, please say yes, please say-_

“No. You?” 

Robert wants to kick himself for not having some in his car. Well damn, if he had known that his training turns into this full body workout, he would have been better prepared. Aw man, all the possibilities, with their two cars here, two hoods, perfect to bend over…

Aaron steps back a little and Robert is about to protest, but then the PT spits down on their cocks. It’s so dirty and obscene, Robert has this seen only in porn so far. He feels close to coming already. 

Aaron wraps his hand around them both, gripping them firmly and starts stroking. His hand feels better than Robert ever imagined it. He can only hold onto the other man, grab his arms, his shoulders - anything to prevent his knees from giving out. The head of their cocks are sliding in and out of the tight, slippery tunnel of Aaron’s palm. The friction is slightly painful, spit is not a good lube, but it’s just that blissful sort of pain. 

It’s rough, it’s quick, without foreplay, without sweet tenderness. And it’s perfect. 

Robert snaps his hips, can’t hold still anymore, he fucks into Aaron’s hand and _ohmygod_ , yes! Heat coils in his belly, his balls are shrinking and he knows he’s almost there.

“Aaron,” he moans, “fuck!”

Aaron’s left hand is suddenly in his hair, pulling his head down, crushing their mouths together and that’s it, Robert is done and he makes some high pitched whine that he’ll definitely going to deny later.

The world disappears in _white_ and _hot_ and _wet_ and somewhere he hears Aaron letting out a wild grunt and then there’s more wetness and then he’s floating.

Slowly, very slowly he’s coming back to earth, the first things he notices are his beating heart, the rushing blood in his ears and that they are slightly swaying, entangled in a sweet embrace, half naked, sweaty and sticky.

It’s amazing. And gross. Ew, so fucking gross. Robert lets out a shaky laugh.

“So, err. Does that count as ‘cooling down’, coach?” he grins.

“You know what? I don’t think so,” Aaron smiles back at him, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Should make you jog five more minutes and then some stretching.“ 

“I knew you‘d get off on bossing me around,“ Robert snorts. 

They clean up with tissues from Aaron‘s glovebox and Robert just _has_ to tease him for at least five minutes about the fact that he has Kleenex but no condoms or lube in there.

For the first time since he met Aaron, Robert is totally relaxed in his company. It‘s such a relief that this strong sexual tension is gone now. 

“About that cooling down: I‘ll let you off this time,“ Aaron says generously, then he points towards Robert, “tomorrow I expect you to be 100% focussed though. No skiving.“

And oh. That‘s, yeah. Right. A good reminder that this was a one off. Just letting off steam, before going back to the training routine. 

Robert is sobering up quickly. 

_Aaron wants professionalism._

Sure. Robert can do that. He is not some hormonal sex obsessed after all, alright?

The sexual attraction between them was like an itch and now it has been scratched.

Back to normal then. 

When he drives off a few minutes later, he looks in the rear view mirror and sees Aaron still standing there, looking after him. He swallows.

_Just an itch._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, Robert 😈😈


	4. no hamstrings attached

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Errrm. Smut.  
> That‘s all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised you not much plot in this fic.  
> I like to keep my promises. 🤣🤣🤣
> 
> (There will be plot again. 👍🏻)

The thing about an itch is, sometimes you scratch and then it’s gone.

And sometimes you scratch and it gets only worse.

\-- -- --

Thursday is trail running. According to google it means “running in the woods”, offroad, and stuff like that - which is basically what they do anyway.

“So what are we doing today, then?” he asks before their first trial session.

His PT shoots him a shiteating grin and Robert knows he’s doomed.

Apparently “trial” means “running a fucking tough mudder” in Aaron’s definition. They are offroad _offroad_ , jumping over fallen trees, jogging up and down canyons and at one point they even have to climb over _rocks_ to continue their run.

“Are you sure you know where we are? I’m not too keen on getting eaten by wolves or something,” Robert mourns breathlessly for like the tenth time.

He has a point here. Aaron Dingle has probably never read The Girl who Loves Tom Gordon from Stephen King, but Robert has, okay? Getting lost in the woods is no fun - whether you’re a small fictional girl or a grown ass real life consultant.

Aaron just laughs at him. The audacity, really. Robert is used to being treated with respect, sometimes even awe-struck. 

Except his own family though, of course, because they don’t treat him anything at all. Not that he is bitter about that.

_Vic is different._

She annoys the shit out of him and god, yes, he loves it. He would never admit it to her, but it’s the truth. And now there is Aaron as well, who is so different and irritating and somehow got so quickly under Robert‘s skin, it is almost scary.

“Robert, trust me,“ Aaron breaths back at him.

And that might be a little problem, because hmmm. _Trust._ That‘s difficult for Robert. His experience tells him not to rely too much on others, the disappointment is inevitable. 

Robert likes being in charge, knowing what comes next, steering the course. 

Except in bed, then it‘s about taking and giving. Versatile boys have more fun, it’s common knowledge and Robert agrees very much. 

_Aaron surely prefers to top. How he kissed and all…_

‘And all’ meaning how he grabbed their cocks and jerked them off. So fucking mind-blowing. Robert remembers the tight grip, the perfect pressure, the wet squelching sounds and _ohmygod,_ Aaron‘s noises. 

How all the wonderful moans and grunts and whines left those parted lips, still shiny with Robert‘s spit and red from all their kissing.

How he looked at Robert with his half-lidded blue wonders, lost in heat and lust.

“Robert!“

He snaps out of it, eyes flying up to his trainer who is ahead of him. “I said: little sprint! C‘mon!“

He groans, but speeds up obediently. At least the little change of pace will pull his mind back out of the gutter.

And Robert‘s mind is down there a lot. 

He can‘t stop thinking about their little handy-dandy encounter. It‘s maddening. Whenever he closes his eyes, Aaron is already there. 

And the fact that this delicious apple arse, only covered with grey shorts, is currently bobbing up and down in front of him _is not helping._

And the fact that neither of them mentioned the hand job when they met earlier, isn‘t helping either.

The itch didn‘t disappear. It‘s more itchy than ever.

— — — 

Robert swears he can‘t remember how he ended up like that. He is currently wrapped in the arms of Jimmy King, while his sister and his PA are discussing the pro’s and con’s of handjobs-

_Wait, there are con’s?!_

_-_ and it’s all a bit overwhelming, to be honest.

  
  
  


It all started with his employee, who invited him to her wedding a few months ago. And right _after_ Robert told her he‘d come, she said with a huge smile: “Oh great, I‘ll place you at the same table as Nicola and Jimmy!“

_Nooooo!_

Nicola‘s husband Jimmy invented the word annoying, no exaggerating here. No way would Robert survive a whole evening glued to those two!

So he did what every reasonable, grown up, single man would do, who got invited to a wedding: 

He asked his sister to be his +1.

At least now he wasn't alone with the Kings. Vic and Nicola bonded a long time ago over the daily food deliveries and they kept running the conversation, while Robert could lean back and sip his Gin. He was a tiny bit tipsy, it was actually fun. And then Vic mentioned Aaron.

“Who‘s Aaron?“ Nicola asked and leaned forward on the table.

And then it was no fun anymore.

“Another G & T, please!“ Robert shouted to one of the waiters passing his seat. 

“Aaron is Robert‘s personal trainer!“ Vic explained with a broad grin.

“I didn‘t know he has a PT?“ Nicola made huge eyes. 

“Yeah, for two and a half weeks now. Robert is gonna run a marathon!“

“Robert?“ his PA shouted with raised eyebrows so loud, that people from other tables looked over in their direction. She pointed with her thumb at him, “you gotta be kidding!“

He had to look for a new assistant, it was official now. Nicola had zero respect for him. 

“Excuse me!“ he piped up irritated and pointed with a circling motion at his face, “ _Robert_ is sitting here.“ 

“So how is the training going?“ Nicola wanted to know eagerly and ha! Funny. She wasn‘t even asking _him_ , she was asking his _sister_. 

The G & T was placed in front of him. Oh thank fucking goodness for that!

“I don’t know!“ Vic flailed her arms, “Robert won‘t tell me _anything_ about it!“

The drink was amazingly cold and refreshing.

“That‘s very suspicious,“ Nicola reckoned, nodding knowingly.

Big gulps. Robert took big, big gulps.

“Look at these two gossips. Women, eh?“ Jimmy grinned dumbly, patted his arm and Robert almost spilled his drink, “bet you’re glad you‘re into guys, huh?“

Robert swallowed. “I‘m bisexual, actually,“ he says curtly. 

He wasn't sure if there was enough Gin at this wedding to make the presence of Jimmy King bearable. Probably not.

  
  


So three Gin & Tonics later he was standing at the bar with Vic, Nicola and Jimmy, while Carly Rae Jepsen blasted over the speakers, begging to call her maybe, and he just had blurted out that he and Aaron Dingle kissed. And really, the moment it had left his mouth, he couldn‘t remember how that happened. He wanted to keep this a secret!

He looked suspiciously at the almost empty glass in his hand, narrowing his eyes. The others had sloshed him up to make him more talkative, that was the truth! 

“You kissed? Awwww!” Vic squealed and clasped her hands together like a kid in front of the candy rag. 

“Shh, don’t interrupt him,” Nicola nudged her shoulder, “what happened then, Robert?” She asked him with big eyes and sucked on her straw.

Robert wanted to lie, wanted to say ‘nothing’, because he never talked about stuff like that with anybody. Why would he?

“He jerked us off,” he said and-

_Did I just say this out loud?_

-Nicola’s Margherita squirted out _of her nose_.

That would be utterly hilarious normally, if Robert just didn’t dig his own grave. Fuck. Fuck. It’s the alcohol, the bloody Gin that lowered all his natural inhibitions. He felt his vision getting blurry at the corners of his eyes, but it was still good enough to see Vic’s dreamy facial expression slowly falling.

“Eww. Gross!” she twisted her mouth with disgust in the same moment when Jimmy laughed: “Nice one, mate!”

He got another hard pat on the arm and this time it had Robert slightly - or not so slightly - swaying.

“Not your mate,” he slurred, pointing at Jimmy.

He was drunk, but not _that_ drunk. Please.

Robert noisily sipped the rest of his drink through the straw.

“And then?” Nicola asked, after she had finished coughing.

“Then? Nothing,” Robert muttered and he _tried_ not to pout, but he wasn’t sure if he actually managed to keep a straight face. “We haven’t talked about it since.”

Phoar, the information was flowing freely now. If the dam was broken once - ah well. Might just ride the wave, right?

“When did this happen?” Vic frowned.

“Last week.”

“Oh, Robert,” his sister sighed and he _hated_ when she did that.

It usually meant that he’s done something stupid or wrong. But he hadn’t, not this time! Honestly! Aaron basically jumped on him, Aaron initiated the tongue, Aaron jerked them off!

The party fulfilled every lame cliché a heterosexual wedding offers: a way too long ceremony, too much pink decoration, a bride’s father who burst into tears during his speech, a drunken best man who passed out sleeping on the chairs next to the buffet and a poor copy of Dirty Dancing for the first dance. 

_The music is nice though… Back-streeets BACK, alright!_

But the music could only do so much, Robert’s mood was sinking with every minute. He despised everything.

And all those happy couples around, whereas he had had to ask his _sister_ to keep him company.

God dammit, he had another “moment”, where the sudden fact of his loneliness hit him. 

He tried to stop feeling incredibly sorry for himself, but failed spectacularly. 

Urgh, Robert hated being such a sap. It was that evil Gin. 

“Another please!” he shouted over his shoulder to the barman, then he looked back at the people dancing and kissing all around him. “I can‘t stop thinking about it,“ it bursted out of him in a really whiny tone that Robert wasn‘t proud of.

He couldn‘t help it though. 

Vic and Nicola had turned towards the bar to order a new drink, so it was only him and Jimmy standing there. The older man looked at him with all seriousness and nodded.

“Robert, my friend, let me pass on some of the wisdom I gained over the years to you,“ Jimmy started and Robert was surprised that he could still string such a long sentence after the nine beers he had. “You and that other lad just dipped your dicks into the big ocean of possible fun, so to say…“ he threw his arm around Robert‘s shoulders and squeezed, “and of course you want more now! It‘s natural. Maybe you should go… you know, for the _real_ thing.“

“I got lost when you talked about dicks dipping into something…“ Robert said slowly, not sure if he finally entered the twilight zone. 

“Go for it, tiger.“ Jimmy beamed at him.

  
  
  


Who on earth would have ever thought that there will be a day where Robert actually agrees with Jimmy King?!

The barkeeper hands him his G & T and Robert just wordlessly downs it. 

— — — 

“You look like shit.”

Aaron Dingle may be a lot, but he’s surely not a sweet-talker.

“Hello, Aaron! It’s nice to see you too,” Robert bites back.

He knows that he looks like shit, thank you very much. And he feels like it too. Apparently he has hit the age where he needs not just one, but _two_ days to sober up again. Yesterday he suffered the worst hangover in the history of mankind and he was so glad that it was Sunday - which means, no training.

“Did something happen?” The tone in Aaron’s voice changed, he sounds concerned now and his blue eyes are full of genuine worry. 

Robert can’t tell him that he broke the no alcohol-rule, Aaron would make him suffer immensely for that.

But he melts a little inside. It’s endearing that somehow this scruffy grump actually cares about him. Probably more than his own brother and that’s saying something, considering he’s known Aaron for barely three weeks. 

He wants to kiss him there and then. Robert swears he feels a real _pull_ , almost like magnetism or something like that. And it’s strong, he has to force himself to resist, to basically lean against it. Never had he felt _this_ sexually attracted to anyone. 

_Go for it, Tiger._

Ugh, Jimmy King's voice in his head is almost enough to kill his arousal. Almost. But not quite. 

Because he is right! Why hold back? The first time was amazing, a second time would surely be just as hot. Missing out on the good stuff doesn‘t make sense. 

Even when you look completely rational at it: they are both young, basically the same age, both good looking - who is he kidding here, Dingle looks so damn fucking hot with his gelled hair and that tight shirt close to bursting over these perfectly shaped pecs! And Robert is single and if Aaron and Puppy have a friendly agreement to have some fun elsewhere, well, that‘s fine for Robert. 

Maybe Aaron and Puppy aren‘t even a thing.

Hell, what is he waiting for then? He needs to scratch that itch a bit more to make it disappear. 

Robert just releases the brake in his head, he lets go. He moves forward and crushes his mouth on Aaron‘s, letting out a deep breath through his nose. It's a relief. Pure relief is flooding his body, to feel these lips again after all those hours of fantasizing, after all those nights (and mornings) of jerking off to the image of him fucking Aaron‘s fist. 

And then the PT kisses back, sucks his bottom lip in. Robert feels the teeth nagging, and although the kiss is heated and determined hands are grabbing him roughly to pull him closer, the teeth are nibbling softly, gently. 

There are these electric sparks again that shoot directly into Robert‘s crotch. He gets so hard in just seconds, it‘s almost painful. His own hands start exploring and Aaron is all solid, strong muscles. Finally he can grab the pecs-

_Why didn‘t I do that last time? Fuck, they are amazing!_

-and god, they fit so fucking perfect under his palms. Aaron goes for his arse again, just like he did last time. 

Robert pulls back, gasps in some air. “I‘ve got lube,“ he whispers. 

Oh yes, he came prepared. One time can happen and it‘s unfortunate. If it happens a second time, it‘s idiocy. 

There is a short moment of silence where he isn‘t sure if Aaron is going to draw back again, the blue eyes flick over his face, down to his mouth, back to his eyes. The pupils are blown, the iris dark. 

“Get it then.“

Robert hurries to his car, where he has the stuff hidden in the glovebox. He is so damn horny, he nearly trips over his own feet. But there is no time to feel embarrassed, because the sexiest personal trainer ever is just as eager as he is. 

Robert shoves the small bottle and a condom into Aaron‘s hand. He needs him inside like five minutes ago. 

“Fuck me.“

The reaction comes instantly, Aaron uses his free hand to grab his neck and pull him into another kiss. 

But Robert needs _more,_ now! His hands wander straight to the hard cock. He palms Aaron through his shorts, causing the prettiest of noises to escape that wonderful mouth.

“Bend over,“ Aaron says breathless and turns him around quickly.

_Oh God, yes!_

Aaron‘s bossy attitude is such a turn on when it comes to sex. Robert just does like he‘s been told, his heated cheek is resting on the hood of his car now, his arse is up in the air. He hears Aaron moving behind him and then, suddenly, his shorts and his briefs are pulled down in one movement. 

Robert moans. And he‘s leaking already although they _haven‘t even started._

He closes his eyes, body buzzing with anticipation, his breath is shaky and loud against the metal of the Porsche and he expects a finger now to get the show on the road.

Instead he is spread open, exposed and right in the moment when Robert wants to tense up, he feels Aaron‘s tongue licking a long strike from his balls up to his tailbone.

Robert chokes out a broken sob. 

It‘s been so long since he got rimmed the last time. He didn‘t even know that he needed this, but now he felt the wet and soft tongue sliding over his hole, setting all the nerves alight - yeah, fuck yes. 

Then the sensation is gone again, the air hits cold where the spit covers his sensitive skin. He feels Aaron‘s breath against his cheeks, hot and steamy.

_He‘s watching._

Robert feels himself clenching and twitching and he feels hot and _dirty_ being looked at like that. 

“Aaron…“ he breaths, getting impatient.

God he needs him now, he needs-

Robert cries out. The tongue is back, licking, probing, fucking into him. The beard is pressing against his skin, he feels every move of Aaron‘s jaw. He moans loudly. The scratchy sensation in combination with the smooth tongue is thrilling. 

Aaron eats him like a starving man and all Robert can do is push his arse back to get _more._ He gets totally lost in the sensation, his surrounding or any track of time - it doesn‘t matter anymore. 

A finger slides in and it‘s lubed up. He has no fucking clue how Aaron did that with the mouth never leaving his hole. Robert doesn‘t care because Aaron is obviously capable of real magic. 

When he hits the prostate a hot spike is shooting into Robert‘s body. He never wants it to stop, but he needs more at the same time.

He is a moaning mess, when Aaron finally, freaking finally pushes into him. It doesn‘t even sting, he is really that loose. Robert hears Aaron gasping for air behind him.

“Fuck me,“ he says again after a short moment where they just stood there, motionless, getting used to the intense feeling. 

And Aaron does. The first thrust knocks the breath out of Robert‘s lungs. It‘s deep and hard, just like he needs it. God, he fantasized about this for weeks, but no imagination lives up to the real thing. 

He rolls his hips, tries to meet the sharp thrusts. 

_God, Aaron, yes!_

Robert can‘t form actual words anymore, it all comes out in harsh noises and deep moans. He feels so full and so good and he can‘t remember when he felt like that the last time. 

Aaron changes the angle, just a little bit, but it‘s enough to send a hot spark into his belly.

“Fuck, Aaron!“ he groans.

The pleasure grows with every hit of his prostate. Sounds of skin slapping on skin are echoing through the woods and the fact that they are outdoors, for every stroller to see, is an additional turn on. 

“Robert!“ Aaron wheezes and sneaks his hand around to grab his cock.

Robert leans on his elbows, looks down just in that moment the fist closes around him. Big drops of precome are shining on the head, making Aaron’s dry palm smooth to fuck into.

“Yeah,“ he breaths as he feels himself getting closer.

Aaron speeds up, thrusting faster and harder into him, Robert almost loses balance. His belly gets hotter and hotter, the pleasure is growing and growing, like a wave of lust, ready to drown him. He has to close his eyes when the feeling gets overwhelming. 

“I‘m coming. Fuck,“ Aaron gasps behind him, snaps his hips one last time and Robert is right _there_ as well. 

His body explodes and his mind goes blank. 

When he comes back down to earth, his whole body is trembling and his lips are tingling. Robert licks them a few times to erase the strange feeling. His heart feels like it’s trying to beat its way out of his chest. 

He is still lying on the hood of his car, unable to move, and so is Aaron apparently because he is resting his head between Robert‘s shoulder blades. His cock is still hard and inside him. Not that Robert minds.

It‘s actually amazing. Still feeling connected. 

He clenches down experimentally and Aaron hisses. 

_Oh yeah._

A huge grin spreads on his face when endorphins cause a deep satisfaction and total relaxation. 

The itch is gone. Amazing.

10 minutes later they are dressed again and Aaron tries to figure out what to do with the condom. 

“Just throw it away,“ Robert frowns.

“I‘m not just throwing it away, Robert,“ Aaron objects, “that‘s gross.“

He ends up putting it into the empty wrapping of an energy bar that he found lying under the passenger seat of his car, to throw it away at home.

_Oh yeah, so much less gross._

Robert rolls his eyes. Aaron fucks like a God, but sometimes he is just an idiot, honestly.

_I‘ll bring bin bags next time._

Robert freezes for a second. Huh. He reminds himself that this might be it. There might be no next time. They did the real thing now, case closed and all that. 

Before the situation can get awkward he opens his mouth and says: “Sooo, was that enough workout for today then?“

(Fun fact 1: nope. Aaron makes him run for one hour and fifteen minutes.

Fun fact 2: hobbling into work the next day with sore legs _and_ a goddamn stubble burn is no fun. At all.)

— — — 

They don‘t speak about it. Again. 

Robert knows it‘s because they‘re men. They are both bad at talking about… _this_. 

… Ugh. See?

So that‘s why they continue the training like nothing happened. They meet for their sessions, Aaron goes on pushing him to his limits and Robert _tries_.

He really tries to keep his hands off the PT. But damn, he can only resist so long, alright? He is just a bloody human!

They are in the gym, it‘s very late already, because of Robert‘s work appointments. Only a few people are left and he is shamelessly staring. 

Aaron is seated on the leg press, his toned chest is heaving, loud, controlled breaths are escaping his parted lips. 

The totally innocent question: “I‘ve never done that, could you demonstrate that exercise…?“ had Aaron hopping on the machine in no time.

“Look how I do it,“ he said and boy, Robert is looking.

So much.

When Aaron pulls his legs to his chest, he offers a perfect view of his arse and when he‘s straightening them, Robert can‘t stop staring at his pecs and abs. 

_Holy fucking hell._

They really should do it one more time. Third time‘s a charm, that‘s even a saying! And everybody knows that there’s always a truth behind a saying. It‘s common sense.

It‘s common sense that they should fuck again. 

Plus, he hadn‘t fucked Aaron yet, so that was still an undiscovered part in that stupid ocean of pleasure - or however JimmytheIdiot had put it. 

“Okay, well done today, Robert,“ Aaron says when they‘re finished. “I‘m really proud of you.“

He says it so casually, as if it‘s nothing.

Except it is definitely _something._ It‘s more than his dad ever said to him. Robert‘s heart clenches painfully. 

Damn, he needs to get laid again, before he gets too sappy, really. 

“So shower and then home,“ Aaron sighs happily, walking towards the locker rooms. 

“Yeah, I shower at home,“ Robert pulls a face. Those public showers are disgusting.

“Why?“

Sometimes Aaron really is an idiot on full purpose.

“I hate showering with flip flops on,“ he says flatly. Besides, his’ are from Valentino, he surely won‘t ruin them here, in the muck of dozens of sweaty men. 

“Hm,“ Aaron grins at him, holding his hand up where a little key is dangling from the middle finger. “I have a private shower here. Perks of being best friends with the owner.“

_Aaron and Puppy are just friends._

His dick gives an interested twitch at this new revelation. 

Aaron has to walk in front of him now, because they entered the small hallway to the lockers. The PT looks over his shoulder with a crooked smile: “Wanna join me?“

And okay, that _has_ to be a-not-so-secret code for ‘I wanna fuck again’, right? 

Robert isn‘t imagining the flirting, right?

So when he pushes Aaron against the cold shower walls two minutes later, this is exactly what his trainer wanted, right?

Robert‘s brain stops his rambling as soon as the PT kisses him back.

This time Aaron‘s got lube and a condom.

This time he bends Aaron over, tells him to prop his arms against the tiles. 

This time he opens Aaron up with one, two, three fingers. 

This time he turns Aaron into a whining, leg shaking mess.

This time he fucks into Aaron until he cries out. 

It‘s so tight, this perfect, smooth heat. It‘s bloody amazing, all the locker room porn clips becoming reality. 

Then he has to take a short break to change his stand on the slippery floor and Aaron starts fucking himself impatiently on his cock.

This gotta be the most hottest thing Robert has ever seen. 

“Fuck, Robert! Don‘t stop,“ Aaron grunts out. “Fuck! Please!“

The _‘please’_ is doing it for him. Holy Jesus fucking Christ. Aaron Dingle begging for his cock. He thrusts three more times before the world explodes in blazing light. 

The next thing he notices are the unmistakingly squelching sounds of someone jerking off. Robert springs to action, pulls out and quickly turns Aaron around. He smacks the hand away and goes for the dick like for a lollipop. 

He hears Aaron moaning something above him and feels hands gripping his hair. 

_C’mon on, Aaron, c’mon._

He’s bobbing his head faster, tries to take him deeper, sucks harder. He uses his teeth very carefully to drag them along Aaron’s shaft. The PT let’s out a guttural moan and cum hits Robert’s throat. 

Aaron’s legs give out and he sinks down next to Robert on the floor. They are both panting and gasping for air. 

_Fucking hell._

“Fucking hell,” Aaron says and Robert laughs at that, because yeah. 

They shower together and keeping his hands off Aaron is hard, so Robert isn’t even arsed in pretending to do so. He soaps the PT up and makes sure he’s thoroughly clean everywhere.

By the time they leave the shower room it’s pretty late and the gym is dark mostly. They made it almost to the exit, when they bump into Puppy.

His brown eyes flick back and forth between him and Aaron. Robert’s giddy, relaxed mood fades quickly. He doesn’t like that look. Surely the gym owner knows what just happened between them.

“Really, Aaron?” Puppy groans exasperated.

“Stop it, Adam,” Aaron growls out a warning.

It’s a _weird_ encounter between best friends and Robert can’t quite place why. Why does Adam seem so annoyed? 

Doesn’t he like Robert? That thought stings. He was nothing but nice to Puppy, he even drank that disgusting protein shake!

Or is Adam annoyed because this has happened before? Well, that thought stings too. It shouldn’t though, he reminds himself. It’s not like him and Aaron are exclusive or something. His trainer can fuck whoever he wants to.

Either way, Robert decides to leave now.

“Well then. It was nice to meet you again, Adam,” he says cheerily, a bit louder than normal, “and with that, I’m off. Good night, guys.” He nods at Aaron, “Aaron.”

The PT looks back at him with an unreadable expression and Robert still feels a weird tension in the air. “Night, Robert.”

He walks out, leaving Aaron and Adam behind, crosses the parking lot to where his Porsche is waiting for him all alone in the dim light of the moon. He regrets that his happy mood is killed now. Damn Adam, for ruining his afterglow. 

\-- -- --

Again, they don’t talk about it. 

It’s not necessary. 

Because they’d rather just fuck. They do it after almost every session now. Warm up, training, cool down, fuck, cool down again. It’s a routine. It’s nice.

Hell, if he had known that having a PT is that much fun, he’d gotten one much sooner. 

And Robert finds himself looking forward to every appointment with Aaron. He already feels the effects of their training: his muscles are much more toned, his fitness increased, he can run longer now without feeling he’ll collapse any second. And the sex, of course, hot damn. Because the sex is really, truly mind-blowing. 

_And the best thing-_

he thinks as he looks into those magically blue eyes, before he cradles the perfectly trimmed beard with his thumbs and leans in for a kiss,

- _the best thing is, it‘s maximum pleasure with a minimum of bullshit. Just amazing sex. Absolutely no strings attached._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? 🙈🤣
> 
> Spoiler for the next chapter: we will meet the Sugdens again 😒


	5. Jumping Jack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert 💔

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It‘s getting plotty again.  
> We are diving deeper into Robert‘s mindset....

“Deeper, Robert. C‘mon, deeper.“

Robert currently is bent over and as much as he wishes Aaron would mean this is in a pleasurable way - he is not that lucky, unfortunately. Because his PT loves to make him suffer, that evil sadist. 

Robert has reached half time with his training, it is only 6 weeks to go now until the marathon. And although he thinks he has made huge progress so far, Aaron doesn’t seem impressed. With every session, his trainer pushes him a little bit more. 

Right now they are stretching and cooling down, a part that he  _ still _ doesn‘t like, but he knows he‘ll get his reward after and that‘s…

Amazing. Sex with Aaron is nothing but amazing. And the fact of Dingle being a sports professional? Heaven. Porn heaven. Because hot damn, is he flexible. 

One time they somehow even managed a quickie on the backseat of his Porsche when it started raining and Robert discovered that the PT is truly bendy like a pretzel. 

And he gives head like a pro.

The last time they kissed until their lips were numb before Aaron sank down on his knees, looking up through dark lashes when he pulled down Robert‘s joggers. The cold air made him shiver, his cock was twitching and throbbing in anticipation. Aaron licked his lips, made them shiny and slick, then he swallowed him down with a long moan. The PT always made the dirtiest noises. He groaned like Robert‘s dick was the best thing he had tasted in ages. Aaron hollowed his cheeks, sucked and slowly, very slowly pulled back. Then he moved forward again, until his nose was buried in Robert‘s pubes. Holy hell, no gag reflex. Aaron‘s mouth felt amazing. And then the jaw went slack suddenly and the trainer stilled. It took Robert a few harsh breaths until he noticed it and he looked down, dazed. Aaron looked up to him, while his dick was still hitting his tonsils. Robert hissed a quiet “fuck” when he got the silent message. Very carefully he rolled his hips. Aaron‘s eyes fluttered shut and he moaned again. Cautious thrusts turned harder quickly, it just felt too good, too hot, too wet. Robert knees almost gave out when he was fucking Aaron‘s face. Strong hands started kneading his arse, encouraging him to go faster. Harder. His loud gasps, wild grunts and the squelching sounds from Aaron‘s throat echoed through the forest. And then the PT pulled his cheeks apart, slid his fingers down Robert‘s crack. “Oh God,“ he managed out weakly before the tip of the middle finger pushed in and pushed him over the edge, the orgasm ripped through Robert‘s body, shaking him violently. 

The memory alone makes him hard again. 

“Keep your back straight,“ Aaron mutters and strokes over his back, causing him to grin in anticipation, “that‘s it.” Aaron clasps his hands. “We‘re finished today, you did really good, Robert.“ The grumpy face lights up with a genuine smile. 

Robert straightens up and preens at the praise, because he really tested his own limits today and kinda won against his weaker self. 

That deserves a reward. 

_ Like Aaron giving me a blowjob. Or I could blow him. _

Robert is happy with both options, he really isn‘t picky. His hard dick is straining against his shorts and right when he wants to pull Aaron in for a hug and a kiss, the PT frowns, looks down to where a vibrating buzz hums in his jacket and pulls his phone out of the pocket. 

“Sorry, gimme a sec,“ he mutters and turns away, reading something on his display. “I have to go,“ he says suddenly, sounding stressed.

“Everything alright?“ Robert asks, the smile on his face slowly dying. 

Aaron has walked to his Golf already and is opening the door right now. “Sure, yeah,“ he says quickly, “really gotta go.“

Before Robert can react, he slides on the driver's seat, the car door is shut, the motor roars and Aaron is gone. 

_ O-kaaaay... _

Robert is standing there, in the woods, with a boner like a total idiot, thanks very much. 

But it‘s okay, honestly. It‘s totally fine. Having sex after the training is not mandatory or something. If Aaron has somewhere better to be, then please, Robert won‘t stand in his way. 

His erection didn‘t get that memo sadly, it‘s still proudly tenting his running shorts, but Robert isn‘t in the mood anymore  _ anyway, _ not even for a quick jerk off. 

— — — 

Robert walks into his office on this bright Tuesday morning. After a little downer, his mood is much better today. It might have a tiny little bit to do with what is about to come this afternoon. He asked Nicola to clear his schedule, so he can finish at 5pm today. Robert can’t even remember if he ever left work that early. But it’s all in good cause, so to say. Because it’s  _ Tuesday. _ It’s gym day.

_ Oh yeah, baby. _

Robert puts his gym bag on his couch. It might not be a comfy couch to sit on, but as a rack it’s pretty stylish. 

“Why are you whistling?” Nicola asks him, when she comes in. Just when Robert tries to suck in air to object, she continues dryly: “Please stop, you really suck at whistling.”

She puts a pile of papers on his desk, his task for today.

_ Rude! _

“I do not,” he informs her maturely. 

His future PA is going to kiss the ground Robert’s walking on, he’ll make that a criterion for the employment - mental node added to the long list of “sorting Nicola out”.

So maaaaybe he was whistling. So what? Can’t he be in a good mood? It’s hardly a crime, is it? He glances at the bag on the couch, a friendly reminder of his early finish today. 

And what is to come afterwards. The thought about the shower room at Barton‘s gym makes him almost purr and ready to roll over. All those memorable moments he spent there with Aaron… Robert is sure he will never ever be able to take a ‘normal’ shower without getting hard. It‘s a Pavlovian thing now, as soon as he sees tiles and hears water running, he‘s horny.

Nicola follows his gaze, turns around to his sofa. She clicks her tongue.

“I see,” she grins like the cat who got the cream, “you’re going to train later.”

“Would you bring me a coffee, please?” he asks and clicks on his mouse a few times as if that would help his computer to boot up any quicker.

“I bet your whistling has something to do with a certain PT…” Nicola smirks.

“And get Biggs on the phone, his deadline is today,” he informs her and takes the papers.

“The mysterious trainer Aaron... did something else happen since that little…  _ ‘session’ _ in the woods?” Nicola forms the quote signs with her fingers in the air. 

How could she ever pass the job interview? It‘s beyond Robert. He can‘t remember. Maybe he was drunk. There is no other explanation.

“That‘s all for now,“ he says and starts demonstratively reading the files. 

“Aww, look at you. Robert Sugden finally has a  _ boyfriend,“ _ she grins. 

“Aaron‘s not my boyfriend!“ Robert finally snaps and looks up.

His heart skips a beat. A boyfriend was never on the plate, never an option. Robert was in love with Katie, then with Chrissie and in between there were a few men - and women - but nothing serious. Nothing nowhere near the ‘b’-word. 

He can’t even remember if he ever said that word out loud before.

Her eyes sparkle at that. “Ha!“ she shouts triumphantly, pointing at him as if she solved a riddle, “but you want him to be!“

Robert scoffs. Aaron Dingle? Please, this is… this would be…

He scoffs again. 

“Noooo…“ he drags the word, “And when you‘re finished, Columbo, I want my Americano.“

She gives him a long look and he stares back, when her phone starts ringing. While her smug face falters, a grin seeps on his face, because she has to take that call.

_ Ha! I‘ll win!! _

“Dammit, this isn‘t over,“ she hisses and goes to her desk to answer the phone.

Robert shakes his head.

_ It sure is. _

He doesn‘t want Aaron to be his boyfriend. Please.

It‘s perfect like it is. Efficient. Satisfying.

A notification of his calendar pops up on his screen and Robert puts the papers aside to switch to his computer. He looks at his meetings and starts whistling again. He‘ll finish early today and tomorrow, if that isn‘t a nice sight for a change. 

He opens his firefox and starts mindlessly browsing restaurants. Surely he’s going to be hungry after the training and it will still be early, so why not eat something decent after the drudgery? 

He wonders if Aaron likes Vietnamese. Robert books a table for two with a few clicks. Just, like,  _ in case  _ Aaron is hungry, too.

— — —

It‘s only two hours later, when life decides that it all has to go to shit again. His phone bings, signalling a new whatsapp.

**Aaron Dingle, PT**

Sry Robert, cant make it today. Adam will take over 

The good mood is fading away quickly. Two short sentences that kill the buzz in his body and feel like a slap in the face. This isn’t how this evening was supposed to be. Robert doesn‘t want Adam to help him, Adam is not  _ Aaron. _ Aaron gets him, knows his body, knows what Robert can and can‘t do. 

Just in that moment, Nicola makes the foolish decision to butt in his office again.

“So, about that boyfriend of yours…” she starts and deep down, he  _ knows _ she just wants to tease him a bit, because that’s how Nicola King is.

She’s a nosey little gossip, trying to milk some juicy information out of him for her shits and giggles. 99% of the time he can shake it off or give a snarky comment in return. 99% of the time his threat of firing her is just a joke - and they both know it. 

Right now, his mood enters the stage of the 1% though. 

“You know what? You’re fired,” he spits at her.

She doesn’t even flinch, just keeps walking towards his desk with an unfazed grin on her face. Robert feels his blood boiling. His goodwill towards her in the past few years is coming back like a boomerang to bite him in his own arse, because she  _ really _ doesn’t take him seriously at all!

“You think this is a joke?” he’s shouting now. 

There is a little crack on her face, she slows down. “Robert…” she says, sounding unsure all of a sudden.

She must have seen it in his face that he isn’t joking this time. Enough is enough. His PA is not getting paid for sticking her nose in his private life and then making fun of him about it. Nobody is making fun of him, he won’t have that, he is Robert Sugden, for fuck’s sake.

“Pack your stuff. You don’t need to come in tomorrow.”

He grits his teeth and holds his breath, readying himself for a nasty bitch fight, because he expects Nicola to tell him where to shove it. Instead she just stands there, looking at him with big eyes, thinking about her next move.

“Very well. If you think you‘ll find another PA who’s willing to bear with your mood swings and childish tantrums…” she says coldly before she turns around and leaves his office.

“I’m not throwing tantrums!” he shouts after her.

_ Fuck Nicola! Everybody is replaceable. _

Except Aaron. Robert whines in frustration. He doesn’t want Adam to train him tonight! Puppy is surely not as good as Aaron. 

And also, it stings that he got cancelled again. Robert wonders what came up, where Aaron would go tonight instead. Maybe he had accidentally double booked and chose the other client? 

_ Or maybe he has a date. _

Yes, thank you arsehole voice, that would be another possibility, of course. Whatever the reason is, it got to be something better than training Robert and fucking him in the shower afterwards. 

It stings. It stings a fucking lot. Because Robert knows he is a good fuck. Their fucks are awesome and judging Aaron’s enthusiastic moans he agrees vigorously. 

He tosses his phone away and rubs his face to clear his mind. He looks up and sees Nicola through the glass window, packing her stuff into a box. Her eyes are shooting angry daggers in his direction and he quickly hides behind his screen, pretending to do some actual work.   
  


“Why is Nicola packing?!” Vic shrieks, obviously skipping boring routines like polite formalities again. 

“I fired her,” he says shortly.

She puts his food on the cupboard and snorts. “Yeah. Right.”

His fingers are poking angrily on the keyboard as he types in a mail. The fact that  _ no one _ takes him seriously, really rubs him the wrong way today. His father treats him like dirt under his shoe, his brother will always shove it into his face that he got Katie in the end, his sister and his PA keep making fun of him as if he is some sort of joke and the only other person in his life that matters keeps cancelling him with lousy whatsapps full of grammatical errors. 

Thanks a fucking lot.

_ Maybe I am joke. _

Oh no. Robert lets his shoulders drop.

It’s one of  _ these _ moments now. The one‘s where his facade is cracking, impending to reveal what’s underneath. Robert hates what’s underneath, because there is this small boy, not being good enough to earn praise from his father, not being strong enough for the job of a farmer, not being funny enough to have actual friends in school. 

Not being enough.

Robert doesn’t like that boy, so he built this facade around him, that keeps the boy safely hidden from other’s eyes. His facade is strong, elegant, smooth, resilient. 

People love it. People are handing him their money, because they see the facade and they trust him to be responsible, clever and skilled. 

Robert takes a deep breath, tries to close the cracks again. 

“Oh my god, you’re not joking,” Vic says, sounding surprised. “Robert!” He looks at her finally and her eyes are big. “Why?”

“Because I expect to be treated with a certain respect from my own employees!” it bursts out of him and he slams his palms flat on the table in frustration. 

Vic’s face softens and Robert does not like that look at all. It’s  _ pity,  _ pity is written all over her face in huge letters. As if she could see behind his facade and knows what’s haunting him. 

“Oh Robert,” she sighs.

“No! Don’t oh-Robert me!” he spits out.

These self-confidence-moments are much worse than his lonely-moments. Gladly they are very rare. But when they hit, they hurt like a bitch. 

“Oh yes! Because now  _ you’re _ listening to me now!” she talks back with all the Sugden-stubbornness her little body can manage. “I don’t know what exactly happened between you two, but I know you and I know her. She is the most loyal employee you could ever wish for, Robert and deep down you know it. And yeah she might be a bit over the top sometimes-”

“Oi, the door is open, I can hear you,” Nicola shouts from outside, just as if she wants to prove the goddamn point.

“She can be a bit over the top sometimes,” Vic insists with rolling her eyes, “but she always looks out for you, does everything you say, does an excellent job at keeping your work organised and she puts up with your tantrums.”

Why does everyone keep insisting he throws tantrums?!

“I don’t throw tantrums!” he snaps, ready to throw a tantrum then and there.

“C’mon Robert! She’s our  _ friend,“  _ Vic pleads.

Urgh, she is doing her big puppy eyes and Robert hates them. This look is emotional blackmail, because she knows he can never say no to that. 

He lets her words slowly sink in. Nicola has been his PA since day one, she supported him when his company was still in the fledgling stage. And yeah, alright, she does a decent job and keeps his meetings, appointments and clients organized, okay? 

God, he hates when his little sister has a point.

“Okay, I gotta go back to the pub,” Vic says, “it’s chaos there again.”

“I really don’t know why it’s that difficult to run a village pub,” Robert frowns.

“It’s not, normally,” Vic sighs, comes over to him, bends down and kisses his head-

_ Like mum. _

-the thought makes Robert’s throat tighten. “But it’s my boss again. See you tomorrow, Robert.”

He watches her leaving his office. Vic reminds him more and more of their mother, how she talks and acts, although she had to grow up without even knowing Sarah properly. 

Robert eats his veggie burger and the Mango salad, thinking about her words again. He glances out to Nicola who’s sitting at her desk, looking miserable. Had he been too hard on her? 

Bing. Another whatsapp.

**Aaron Dingle, PT**

Make sure to do a proper warm up esp with your hamstrings. Don't want you to get hurt

Despite still being pissed off about getting cancelled-

_ Again! _

_ - _ Robert has to smile. Somehow the scruffy trainer really cares about him. It settles something in his chest, something warm spreads from there through his body. 

Aaron doesn’t want him to get hurt.

A noise from Nicola’s desk makes him look up. She is busy sorting her belongings, photos of her and Jimmy, their kids… Robert sighs. Dammit. Nicola has a family to support. Jimmy only works part time to spend the afternoon with their sons and daughter, while she is usually about 9+ hours in the office to sort Robert’s stuff out. 

That and the weight of Vics words lay heavy on his shoulders, making him feel  _ awful. _

Robert doesn’t like feeling awful, there is nothing cool about it. 

Before he can think any longer about it, his body gets up and walks over to her. He stops in the doorframe, not really sure what to say. It’s not like Nicola looks up at him anyway. She’s sulking, her face is a stern mask. 

“Err… I have booked a table at the new Vietnamese in Park Lane,” he starts slowly, “you and Jimmy can have it, I won’t go.”

She leans back on her chair, crossing her arms, pursing her lips and stays silent. Oh great. He didn’t expect a thank you-speech, but well, any reaction at all would be nice at least. 

“I can babysit,” he offers lamely. 

He did it before, twice. Somehow - and it is really beyond Robert - the brats seem to like him. Might have to do something with the fact that he allows them to watch cartoons so they leave him in peace while he’s sitting in the armchair surfing on his iPhone.

Anyway, he can babysit them, that’s the point.

“But errm,” he clears his throat, “don’t be out too long, because I have an appointment at 8 tomorrow and I want you to come with me.”

He swallows and hopes that she’ll say something now. Because, awkward. Nicola gets up from her chair, her face is still unreadable while she’s walking around her desk and comes to a stop right in front of him.

“Robert,” she sighs as if he is the biggest inconvenience in her life, “some people just say ‘sorry’!”

Then she hugs him and he is taken aback for like one second, before he slowly hugs her back. The tension and the awful feeling in his stomach dissipate. 

_ Just say sorry? _

Fuck, if he had known it would be that easy, he wouldn’t have offered to babysit the brats.

\-- -- --

Of course if you reach out the small finger to Nicola, she takes the whole hand. She came up with the idea of going to the movies with Jimmy before heading to the restaurant and guilt tripped Robert into agreeing to look after their kids right after work.

That meant he had to cancel his gym appointment (he wrote Puppy a short eMail on the Barton’s gym homepage and found himself not being too sad about it) and that‘s how he ended up sitting at the dining table in the King household feeding the Gremlins with Spaghetti Napoli. 

He thought it was a good idea to make pasta with tomato sauce. Kids love that shit, right?

Indeed, the King brats are loving that shit. And no, it was  _ not _ a good idea to make pasta with tomato sauce.

The sauce is freaking everywhere. On the table, the floor, their clothes, ROBERT’S CLOTHES-

_ Oh for fucks sake, I’m going to kill you!! _

-... everywhere. How on earth can small people create such a gigantic mess?

Frustrated, Robert throws his cutlery on his plate and goes to the sink in the kitchen. He tries to wash the orange stains out with dish soap and hot water, because, oh man, he  _ loves _ that shirt. It‘s the one with the rose pattern on it. 

A scream and then someone starts crying behind him. He turns around. The girl got noodles and sauce in her  _ hair _ now, the older boy is holding his spoon like a catapult and he‘s grinning.

“Oi! You!“ Robert shouts and the younger boy turns his head to look at him. He rolls his eyes. “Not you! The other one! Oi!“

Knowing the names of the brats would come in handy now and Nicola told him their names  _ once _ before he first watched them - but honestly, Robert can‘t remember the names for the life of him. He is bad with names, that‘s one of the main reasons why he has a PA, duh! 

The older one turns his head, finally.

“Stop that and apologise!“ he demands, trying to sound authoritative. 

“Sorry,“ Older-Boy says to Girl with a sly grin and he doesn‘t sound sorry at all. 

This scene, those three kids around the table, teasing each other, it reminds him so much of Andy, Vic and him for a moment. 

With a sudden clarity he sees young Robert and his siblings sitting there, eating lunch. Andy still had muddy verges under his nails from playing outside the whole morning and Vic played with small slices of cucumber, while Sarah was standing in the kitchen, stirring the tomato soup. Then the door opened and with a gust of fresh, chilly air Jack Sugden stomped in, pulling off his rubber boots at the threshold before he sat down at the table. It was noon on the dot, lunch time on the weekends. His father‘s stomach worked like clockwork. 

“Look daddy,“ Vic smiled and held up a picture she had drawn. It showed five stick figures, clearly their family with a house in the background, “this is us!“

“Aww, well done, dear,“ Jack said and touched her dark hair with a fatherly pat.

“I built a birdhouse today, dad!“ Andy told eagerly, “it‘s in the backyard. I can show you later if you want!“

“Of course I wanna see that!“ Jack nodded proudly.

“We have this assignment due on Monday,“ Robert piped up, wanting to report what he did so far, “we had to write a poem. It was a tough task, but I finally-”

“Sarah?“ his father turned to his mum, “is the food ready?“

Robert is standing in the kitchen, watching the King‘s kids and he can almost smell the tomato soup and he most definitely still feels that  _ sting. _ He doesn‘t remember the bloody assignment or the damn poem he wrote, but he remembers the hurt. 

One of many. Many little moments, that added up, that slowly replaced the unconditional love a child has for its parents with heavy sadness. 

_ Damn you, Jack.  _

He swallows hard. Robert is ready to curl up somewhere and dwell on his miserable mood with his good friend Siegfried, his favourite Gin, and a monster bottle of tonic. 

He made that plan without Nicola and Jimmy‘s kids, obviously, because a hand tugs on his jeans, pulling him out of his thoughts. Younger-Boy looks up to him with big eyes. 

“I gotta poop.“

  
  
  


An hour later, after Robert did things he never ever wants to talk about again,  _ thanks a lot, _ he blow-dries Girl‘s hair. She insisted on taking a bath since she was covered in Spaghetti and tomato sauce. 

Robert looks around in the small bathroom. Water is being splashed everywhere - he is currently standing in a huge puddle - the result of a  _ ‘splash clash!‘  _ how Older-Boy called it. Robert can confirm that the term was accurate for the water war that followed between the three kids in the bathtub. 

_ Well, that‘s Nicola‘s problem. I won‘t clean up their brats mess! _

A quick glance at the watch tells him it is only 7pm. Robert closes his eyes and groans. God, this evening is dragging for  _ ages _ already! He cooked for the kids, he did that...toilet thing… he bathed them. How is he only here for one and a half hours? Someone kill him now, please! 

“Ow!“ Girl protests, when he directed the hot air too long at the same spot. 

When he‘s finishing her hair, she looks at him. “Will you braid it now, like dad does?“

Oh dear, that is one mental image of Jimmy King that Robert really didn‘t need to have imprinted in his brain. 

“No!“ he just says and that‘s decided then.

  
  
  


30 minutes later he is braiding Girl‘s hair. Call him a pushover, but there is  _ no way _ one can say ‘no’ to a wobbling chin and glassy eyes. They are watching a film called ‘Despicable me‘. Robert only saw the cover of that moronic movie with the ridiculous yellow little whatevers and rolled his eyes, but now they are half an hour in, he has to admit that it‘s not that bad. This Gru guy is ace even. 

Younger-Boy grins at him, while he shoves another handful of crisps into his mouth. Robert nods back. Ah bless, a cartoon and junkfood make that babysit malarky quite bearable. 

His phone vibrates in the back pocket of his jeans and he pulls it out, wondering if it‘s Nicola worrying for the safety of her kids.

The incoming call is from Aaron Dingle, PT.

Robert’s heart does absolutely not speed up, when he answers it. 

“Aaron,“ he greets.

“Robert,“ the raspy voice scratches into his ear. “Adam told me you cancelled the training.“

Robert doesn‘t know what to make of this statement. Is Aaron disappointed?

“Yeah, something came up,“ he admits, glancing at the King brats.

“Robble?“ Younger-Boy asks right in that moment.

Robert wants to slap his forehead. “I told you not to call me that,“ he groans and then: “What?“

“Can we have chocolate?“ the kid smiles.

Robert knows better than to trust that innocent look. Underneath that cute look is a little monster hiding, ready to scream and cry ugly tears in case Robert declines it. And he really has had enough today, so he gives in with a sigh.

“Just…” he‘s searching for words, “fine. One bar of chocolate each!“

The kids squeal.

“Robert?“ Oh. Right. Aaron is still on the phone. “Or should I say,  _ Robble?“ _ His trainer sounds amused.

_ The little shit! _

“Shut up!“ he tells Aaron and scoffs. Of course the PT had picked up that stupid nickname. Robert rolls his eyes.

“Language, Mr S!“ Older-Boy gives him a look while he‘s pulling the sweets out of the sideboard next to the sofa. 

There is a chuckle on the other end of the line and Robert gets up from the couch.

“My hair!“ Girl pouts and points at her half braided head. 

“I‘ll finish it after the phone call,“ he promises quickly and slips into the kitchen, closing the door behind him. 

He takes a deep breath, thankful for the little moment of privacy. 

“So Mr S… something came up?“ Aaron asks and he still sounds very much like he‘s grinning.

“A concatenation of circumstances led to me ending up as a babysitter for my PA‘s kids,“ Robert explains and sits down at the table. 

Aaron hums. “And you gave them chocolate? Sugar at this time?“ he chuckles softly, a sound that tickles in Robert‘s ear and causes a shiver running down his spine, “you must really hate that poor PA of yours.“

Robert knows that sugar will give them another energy push and delay their bedtime for at least one hour, but well. They are quiet  _ now.  _ It‘s weighing up the pro‘s and con‘s. 

Robert‘s pro‘s won. 

“I mean, I actually had her fired for about 2 hours today,“ he says, grinning. 

The doors gets opened and Girl pokes her head in. “My haaaaair!“ she whines impatiently. 

“I said, after the phone call!“ Robert emphasizes every word. 

She groans, but closes the door again. He focuses back on the breathing through his phone. 

He wonders what Aaron is doing. If he is still busy with whatever came up. 

“What’s with the hair?“ Aaron wants to know.

“I was braiding the girl‘s hair when you called,“ Robert admits sheepishly. 

Aaron barks out a loud laugh at that. Robert debates for a quick second if he should feel offended now, because  _ rude! _ But he can‘t bring himself to being annoyed or insulted. 

It‘s  _ Aaron.  _

“I‘ll have you know that I‘m a bloody  _ master _ of braiding hair!“ Robert says smugly and leans back on the chair and spreads his legs to sit comfortably. 

“As if!“ Aaron scoffs.

“I have a little sister, I had loads of practice!“ Robert laughs. 

His PT chuckles again. The sound is deep, hoarse and like a soft caress of Robert‘s ears. 

He feels himself missing the scruffy trainer tonight. 

_ Fucking him, of course. I miss fucking him.  _

“Alright Robble Sugden, master of braiding,“ Aaron jokes and Robert shakes his head, grinning.

_ Such an idiot! _

“I accept that as a reason for you to skip training today,“ Aaron goes on, more serious now, “but no more excuses now, okay? You did so well in the past few weeks and we‘re on a really good way, but we can‘t let it slide now.“

Robert swallows heavily. The praise catches him off guard and the compliment is like a warm embrace after the sad episodes and ups and downs he had today. 

Why can‘t he hear these words from his father, only once? 

And then there is this  _ ‘we’ _ . A little word. Two letters that make such a huge difference. Aaron thinks about them as a team.

“We?“ he asks quietly before he can stop himself. 

“Yeah. We.“

There is a silence after that, Robert isn‘t quite sure what to say next. He just sits there and listens to Aaron‘s breathing. 

“And even if I can‘t make it to our sessions, you can go running alone. You know the stretches you need as a warm up by now, and in the gym Adam can help you with the exercises.“

Robert‘s tensing up. The beginning of Aaron’s statement alerts him. What does that mean? Does it mean anything? 

Is his trainer going to cancel their sessions more often in the future?

Right after that little ‘we’ this is like a bucket of ice cold water being splashed out over him. 

Damn, Robert really needs a handbook to fully understand Aaron. A Dingle 101 or something. 

“Sounds like  _ you‘re _ letting it slide!“ He tries to make it sound like a joke, but it came out a little too forced. 

“Don‘t be daft,“ Aaron says fondly and Robert lets out a little breath at that, “but I have… err... a lot going on. Right now,“ he adds carefully.

Robert can hear how he tries to choose his words wisely. It doesn‘t sit right. Something‘s up, Robert  _ knows _ it, but he can‘t imagine what. 

_ Maybe you‘ve done something. Maybe you were too clingy. _

The thing is, the lonely-moments hit him out of the blue, they hurt and then they disappear just as quickly as they came.

The self-conscious-moments are a result of many, many small moments that add up, grow bigger like a wave until it all crashes down on him. And these moments hurt. They hurt more than the ‘lonely episodes’. They stay longer. They keep circling in his mind, keep tugging their acid spike into his heart whenever anything happens that is out of his control. It‘s like a dark cloud that follows him for  _ days _ sometimes.

And then that arsehole voice in his head truly bites. 

“Okay,“ he whispers and his throat is so tight that he can‘t get another word out right now.

God, he hates feeling like this. 

He tries to kick himself mentally, hoping that‘ll help, hoping to get the lightness of the beginning of that phone call back. 

_ Get a fucking grip now, Robert! _

Silence again and Aaron‘s breath. It always has a soothing impact on Robert and this time it‘s no different. It takes him a bit longer, but eventually he focuses on the positive things Aaron said to him. 

“Robert?“

“Yeah?“

“Just checking if you‘re still there,“ Aaron snickers. 

“Yeah.“

“Night, Robert.“

“Good night, Aaron,“ he says and then the line goes dead. 

He keeps sitting there, replaying that conversation over and over in his head. Trying to read the unsaid parts. Robert sighs.

The kitchen door gets opened again, bright light from the living room is blinding him.

“Robert! My hair!“ Girl insists with a whine. 

“Coming,“ he mutters.

On his way over to her he steps into tomato sauce and curses. At some point it got dark and he didn‘t switch on the lights. Huh. 

  
  
  


Another hour later, a loved up Nicola and Jimmy are coming home to find their children wide awake watching ‘Despicable me 2’, whilst Robert just managed level 1534 on Candy Crush. 

Nicola‘s eyes widen comically. “What the f-” 

“Language, mommy,“ Older-Boy says and Robert leans over to high-five him. 

Then he gets up. “I fed them, I bathed them. They are still alive and unscathed. Now they are all yours again,“ he declares, heading for his jacket. 

He hears a door getting opened and the click of the light switch.

“Oh my God!“ 

That was Jimmy. He most definitely just entered the kitchen a.k.a. the Spaghetti battle zone.

“See you tomorrow at eight, byyyye!“ Robert shouts quickly and hurries outside before Nicola discovers the mess in the bathroom. 

— — — 

Wednesday is a running day again. It‘ll help with clearing his head and Robert is thankful for small mercies. His sports bag is still lying on the sofa in his office, untouched since yesterday morning. 

He really needs this tonight, he realises when he looks at that bag. 

Aaron probably has broken Robert at this point. The damn running is actually nice now, how the hell could that happen?! Not just the (mindblowing) fucking afterwards - no, the _running_ _itself_ is something Robert is looking forward to more and more.

He groans. Now he is officially one of those arseholes who love to flaunt and tell everybody about how super sporty they are after work.

_ It feels so good, doing something for your body. And that vegan millet seed drink afterwards...hmm! You should try it too! _

Ugh, what has he become, honestly. It’s Dingle’s fault. 

“Robert?”

He shifts his gaze to the man in front of him. Jeff Schmidt is looking at him with a mixture of concern and irritation. His face is red and bloated, Schmidt always looks like he is one foot away from a coronary. Despite being an older, slimy moron, he owns one of the biggest chains of restaurants in the North which unfortunately makes him one of Robert’s important clients. 

“Sorry, Jeff, I was just thinking about that investment of yours and I think we found a deal, that could be truly beneficial for you,” Robert hands him the papers and shows his winning smile.

He knows it’s winning - he practiced it in front of his bathroom mirror. With teeth and all. 

Schmoozing Schmidt is easy - he prefers conservative investments, low risk, even if it means a lower return. But the magic comes with a prize. The old fella loves a flirt. Preferably with Robert.

“Hmm, that reads interesting, indeed,” Schmidt hums and Robert knows he got him.

He leans back on his seat. Now he just has to bring the baby home. Easy peasy. “I knew you would like it.”

“You know what else I’d like?” Schmidt looks up with a sly grin.

Robert’s smile never falters, but behind his gritted teeth he feels vomit raising in his throat.

“What if we discuss the details of the deal over dinner,” Schmidt continues, “My treat, of course.”

_ And eat the poor shit in your fast food hell? I don’t think so, Jeff. _

“Aaahhh, I’m so sorry, Jeff,” Robert starts and he manages somehow to look crestfallen, “I can’t. I have this marathon coming up in six weeks and I am training almost every evening for it.” He shrugs and sighs.

“A marathon, really?” Schmidt perks up at that.

“Yeah, it’s for a good cause. We are running for the cancer unit in the local hospital,” Robert explains, “I felt it was time to give something back.” He lays his hand on his heart and debates for a second if that was a bit over dramatic, but Schmidt is melting on his chair.

“Oh, that is wonderful, Robert!” he says delighted. “Do you need a sponsor?”

Robert thinks about that for a second. He knows about charity runs where sponsors donate for every mile that has been covered. To his own surprise he hasn’t even checked the details about this run. He was so occupied with the thought of proving himself to his family and his training-

_ And the trainer... _

-and the trainer, that he hadn’t given the actual event any further notice. 

Great, now he feels shitty and selfish. 

“Thank you so much for this generous offer, Jeff. Let me check the formalities and I’ll give you a call, yeah?”

“Anything for you, Robert,” Schmidt smiles and Robert wants to shower.

After ten minutes of smalltalk, Schmidt finally leaves with his papers, because he always wants to “sleep on it”. Robert goes online, to the site of the marathon and apparently this is indeed a run where you raise the money with sponsorships. 

A grin appears on Robert’s face. That’s good, that is really good. Because he knows a lot of wealthy people who love to use a charity to polish their own reputation. He is going to raise much more money than Andy, that’s for sure. 

Jack has to acknowledge this. He has to.

His iPhone on the table starts vibrating and for a moment he thinks it’s Aaron to cancel their session again, but when he looks at it, it’s an incoming call from  _ Vic.  _ It’s almost noon, she should be here with his lunch soon. 

“Vic?” he answers the call, “what‘s up? Are you stuck in traffic?“

“Robert.” 

She’s breathing loudly. He jumps up off his chair as if something has bitten his arse. “What’s up?” he asks and tightens the grip around his phone.

“It’s dad.”

\-- -- -- 

He pulls into the parking space near the hospital and lets out a shuddering sigh. It was one of those drives you can’t remember afterwards. Robert has no idea how he got here, but at least he made it without ending up in a car crash. His body is on autopilot since Vic told him their dad is in hospital. 

Coronary.

He remembers his nasty thought regarding Schmidt and regrets it now. Robert feels awful. Nobody deserves having a heart attack, not even his father. 

Despite everything that happened - and sadly didn’t happen - between them, Jack was still his  _ dad.  _ His only parent left.

Robert isn’t ready to say goodbye!

He walks into the hospital on stiff legs, asks for Jack Sugden with numb lips and presses the button for the lift with sweaty fingers. Everything is just a weird blur, the only thing he can see clearly is that image in his head, that image of his father in a hospital, pale and unconscious, tubes hanging off his body, machines beeping, Vic crying by his side. 

When he reaches the room, he takes a moment to inhale and exhale deeply. He has to be strong for Vic, he can’t show his own inner turmoil.

With a shaky hand he pushes the door open and stops dead in his tracks. 

Whatever he expected - it comes nowhere close to reality.

In reality, Jack is half lying, half sitting on his bed, very conscious, very much  _ smiling. _ Andy is sitting by his left side, talking about something. Vic is sitting on the other side, holding their father’s hand. There is one tube, reaching from a machine to Jack's hospital gown, disappearing in his collar down his chest. He isn’t pale. 

Robert takes the scene in. It looks almost homey. Katie comes out of the bathroom with a vase and an enormous bouquet. 

_ Of course they are all here already, even her. Of course I was the last one they informed.  _

He  _ tries _ to tell himself not to read too much into it. But well. It‘s just the fact that he‘s still raw inside, still worked up from his depressive thoughts the day before and it rubs him really the wrong way. The very wrong way. His mood turns from anxious to sour in only a few seconds. 

Robert steps into the room, ignoring the biting scent of disinfectant and  _ illness.  _ Then he‘s standing there like an idiot, while his family is gathered together, deep in conversation, not even noticing he arrived. He clears his throat to get their attention.

“Robert,“ his father eventually says, loving as ever. Meaning zero.

“Dad,“ he answers.

Andy and Katie are eyeing him, Vic gives him a small smile. 

“What happened?“ Robert asks and tries his best to ignore the awkward tension in the small room.

“I felt a sudden pain in my chest and in my arm,” his father tells him, “I thought not much of it, but Andy convinced me to see a doctor. He drove me here and they found out that it was a coronary. Not a bad one though, thank God.”

“It was the right decision to bring you here,” Andy insists, “you’re glad I’m just as stubborn as you are.”

“You know, nothing kicks me out of my boots that quick,” Jack jokes towards his brother.

“Really though,” Katie pipes up, “you need to look after yourself better.” 

She then pats his arm in such a gentle, familiar way, that Robert wants to vomit then and there. Aren’t they fucking cozy. 

He notices a bag on the floor, packed with Jack‘s clothes from home. Robert wonders when his father was brought in here and why it obviously took fucking  _ ages _ to call him then. 

“When did it happen?” He has to ask. He is a masochist. 

“When did you bring me here? Around 8?” Jack thinks aloud and Andy nods along.

8 o’fucking clock this morning. Almost 5 hours ago. 

“Why didn’t you call me sooner?” he blurts out. 

“And what could you have done, Rob?” Andy asks back.

A slap in the face couldn’t hurt Robert more than these seven words. He takes a small step back. His chest clenches awfully. He could have been  _ here. _ With his bloody family. That’s what he fucking could have done.

_ Fuck you, Andy, fuck you. _

Not that Robert knows it from his own experience, but shouldn’t a family stick together in difficult moments? Isn’t that what books and movies always told him?

“We didn’t want to disturb your work,” Katie explains and the others may not notice it, but Robert sees her little sly smile. 

He is not falling for her bullshit. She’s loving this. Robert wishes so desperately to dish out a witty come back, but his mind is blank. It feels like a knife has been rammed into his chest. 

“You are here now,“ Vic offers.

She means well - she is the one who finally informed him after all - but her words have quite the opposite effect. The knife painfully twists and turns, makes him wanna crumble down on the floor.

He is here now, but at the same time, he‘s not. Not really. Robert is still standing by the door while the others are touching each other, comforting each other. Robert was always aware of the rift between him and his family. It‘s sensed in every moment he spends with them. And now it‘s visible as well.

After an awkward moment of silence where he feels their gazes burning on his skin, Andy and Jack start talking again. Vic and Katie eventually turn around to listen. 

A soft chuckle from Vic. Katie lays her hand on Andy‘s shoulder. All three of them are smiling at his father.

Robert can‘t hear what they are saying, blood is rushing through his ears. He is rooted to the spot, unable to move. He feels so goddamn small and he hates it. 

It’s like a picture in a cheesy movie, where the camera slowly slides backwards while a soft pop song creates a warm atmosphere, and Robert is watching it from outside. He is a bystander of his own family life. 

They are sticking together like a family should and he coincidentally carries the same surname.

He doesn‘t belong in their circle.

Bile is rising in Robert‘s throat, tasting bitter. He just turns around and leaves while the others are still laughing about something. They don‘t even notice that he‘s gone. 

— — —

Getting drunk is not a solution. Robert absolutely knows that. He is an entrepreneur, he is clever, he is a  _ reasonable grown up. _

“Another, please!”

But hell, that Gin helps lulling his running mind and his hurting chest. In fact the alcohol offers him more warmth than Jack fucking Sugden has done in years. 

When he came in, the barkeeper gave him an odd look and informed him about the time of day. As if he needed a 21 year old with spots on his forehead to tell him that it was only 2pm. The audacity. 

Since Robert threw a few banknotes on the bar, Stuart the student stopped telling him that it was too early to get wasted and now Stu is his new mate. He is a good listener, really. 

Robert finds himself talking a lot, although he can’t remember about what he was rambling in the past two hours. It’s all a bit blurry now. 

“Mr S, I really think you-” the barkeeper starts carefully.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah!” Robert makes and raises his pointer. “Don’t think, Stu. Don’t think.”

“But you already had-”

“If ya don’t wan’ me money, I can leave it in‘nother pub,” Robert informs his ex-mate.

So ex-mate. Stuart’s got one job here, can’t be that difficult really. Robert gets his Gin and downs it quickly. The alcohol burns in his throat and oesophagus, the fact that it lands in an empty stomach, because he had no lunch today, intensifies the intoxicating effect. 

His vision swims away, his movements are getting slow and uncoordinated, his jaw feels heavy and the lips numb. Small sacrifices for the fact that he‘s finally feeling better. His stupid brain is too busy with dealing with the swaying surroundings than thinking. And his body focuses on not throwing up rather than on a hurting chest. 

Robert feels his phone vibrating in his jeans pocket. He tries to pull it out smoothly, but his fingers are clumsy and shaky now and the phone drops on the floor. With a curse he gets up from his bar stool on stiff legs. He feels himself stumbling like a baby Giraffe and it takes him quite a moment to grab it from the floor. Bending over is sooo not a good idea. 

_ Whoah _

Everything starts spinning and he has to look twice to see the huge crack from the top right corner diagonal over the whole display. 

Robert barks out a hysterical laugh, because  _ of course.  _ Of course this happens on this day. 

There is a message on his phone, but damn, the letters are so small and there are so much of them and they won‘t stop moving.

“Stuart, read the mezzage for me, please,“ he slurs and hands over his phone to the bar man. 

He ignores the look he gets in return while he‘s climbing ungracefully back on his chair.

Bar stool are an evil invention. 

“It‘s a message from Aaron Dingle. ‘Where are you?‘“ Stu reads out. 

_ Fuck! _

“Fuck!“ Robert shouts.

He totally forgot Aaron! His training! Their post-training-fuck! Robert wants to slap himself. After he missed out on the good stuff yesterday and the day before, he could really do with some dangling the Dingle. 

“Call ‘im!“ he orders quickly. “And gimme the phone!“

Stuart hands him his iPhone back and Robert presses it eagerly against his ear. Getting laid sounds like an awesome option. 

“Hiya,“ Aaron‘s hoarse voice sends a shiver down his spine, “never thought I see the day where Robert Sugden is actually late.“

He hears him smiling. Robert pictures Aaron, standing there in the woods, in his sexy running shorts, with a muscle shirt that does nothing to hide those delicious pecs, and a smile on his cute face. 

“Here‘s chang‘a plan. No training. Just fucking,“ he purrs into the phone.

He can‘t hear Aaron‘s response over Stu‘s sudden coughing fit.

“Sssshhhh!“ he hisses to the barkeeper who looks at him big with big eyes. “What’d ya say, ’ron?“

“You‘re drunk.“ Aaron doesn‘t sound like he‘s smiling anymore. That‘s probably not good. Robert wants the smile back.

“Slightly tipsy, more like,“ he corrects him, “c‘mon Aaron. Need ya.

There is silence on the other end and for the first time it‘s a silence between them that Robert doesn‘t like. 

“Where are you?“ Aaron finally asks him.

A huge grin spreads on Robert‘s face. He knew he could count on his trainer. “In a bar… errm…” Robert can‘t tell the name of this lousy pub, his mind stays blank. “Oi, Stu! What‘s ‘e name o’ this place?“

“The Blue Monkey.“

Robert snorts. “That‘s ridiculous,“ he informs Stuart, before he says to Aaron: “I‘m in The Blue Monkey. Will ya c‘mere, Aaron?” he says, feeling giddy. 

His head is floating. The world is fine again, the world is fucking amazing. 

“I‘m coming. Stay there,“ his PT replies.

Robert hangs up and clicks his tongue. Stuart gives him a curious look. 

“One o’ us is gettin‘ laid tonight, Stu,“ he says, pointing sloppily between him and the bartender, “and F-Y-I, it‘s not you.“ Robert laughs over his own joke.

He orders another Gin, before he gets up to hit the bogs. On the way he bumps his shoulder on the doorframe, but mind you, he doesn‘t feel pain anymore anyway. 

  
  
  


“I don‘t wan‘ water,” Robert whines.

“Please, Rob, it‘ll do you-” Stuart tries.

“Don‘t call me  _ Rob _ !“ he snaps angrily.

Andy calls him that sometimes and he hates it. And Andy knows that he hates it, but he does it anyway. On purpose. Because he‘s a bloody moron. 

And he‘s back in Robert‘s mind now. 

_ Thanks for nothing, Stewie! _

‘Rob’ is Andy teasing him for rather staying at home than going outside to play football, ‘Rob’ is Andy shoving him to the side in the school hallway to play the big man in front of his mates, ‘Rob’ is Andy shifting over responsibility for Vic after their mum‘s death. 

He managed to drown his thoughts so nicely and now the bitterness comes crawling back just because of three little letters.

The only one who is allowed to call him that is Vic. She is the exception, but she is his sister since forever. 

Stuart is just his ex-mate for the past hours. 

“I‘m taking it from here.“

His beloved scratchy voice is right next to him! Robert turns around, just to see Aaron nodding towards Stuart before he gives him a once over. 

“Robert,“ Aaron says with a deep sigh and his blue eyes look sad.

Why does he look so sad? He should be happy - because, they‘re about to bang later!  _ Yay! _

“Hiiii,“ he stretches the word and flashes a broad grin, hoping to get one in return.

He is not that lucky. Instead Aaron starts frowning.

“Come on, let's get you home,“ he says quietly and then strong hands are gripping Robert‘s arms, hot palms are burning through the shirt on his skin. 

Robert wants them all over him. He nods enthusiastically and that makes his sight grow hazy, colours dissolve. It makes him lose balance and he stumbles, but Aaron keeps him upright. 

He waves towards Stuart and follows the gentle pull of his PT. It‘s bright outside, which feels weird. Robert can‘t remember if he ever left a pub in a drunken state in broad daylight. 

“Me car’s o’er there,“ he protests when Aaron guides him in the opposite direction. 

Aaron scoffs. “Sure,“ is all he says and they keep walking away from the Porsche. 

Robert throws the thoughts about his car over board. He isn‘t keen on a discussion when he can have Aaron‘s cock instead. It‘s all about priorities. Less arguing, more fucking. Make love, not war. 

Robert giggles. He thought of the L-word. 

Somehow he is in Aaron‘s Volkswagen, he is asked to give his address and he answers obediently. Talking is a bit difficult now though. 

Somehow they are in front of his house.

Events start melting into each other.

Robert blinks frantically to clear his head. As soon as they are inside, he presses Aaron against the door and grinds against him. 

“Fuckme,“ he breaths out. 

Robert attacks his neck with his mouth, sucks right where the scruff ends and reveals silky, warm skin. 

He wants it, he needs it. Aaron would make him feel good with his powerful hands, soft lips and hot tongue. Aaron, who worships his body like nobody ever has before. 

“Robert,“ Aaron‘s whisper is barely audible. “Stop.“

_ Stop. _

Robert freezes. He pulls back to get a look in Aaron‘s face. The vision swims, doubles, focuses, blurs again. 

But he saw enough. Aaron isn‘t aroused. His blue eyes are downcast and he is still kind of sad. The gaze slowly travels up Robert‘s body and face until they lock eyes. 

It‘s  _ pity.  _

Aaron pities him.

Just like Vic did yesterday.

Robert stumbles back, trips over his own feet and falls back. He‘s landing on his arse. 

It doesn‘t hurt. Not physically. 

But there is a deeper pain that burns through his body. Suddenly his foggy brain has a clear moment, where he realises how incredibly  _ drunk _ he is, how  _ pathetic.  _

He‘s sitting there for what it feels like a very very long moment. 

The blue eyes are watching him and Robert wants to hide so badly. Every thought about sex is killed.

_ Stop. _

That small whisper echoes in his head over and over. Aaron doesn‘t want him. The only good thing in his life is slipping through his fingers. 

“Getout,“ he manages out.

All he wanted was for Aaron to fix him, to make him feel cherished and special, but he won‘t get that. Not tonight, maybe never again. Robert is not a crier, he's really not, but his eyes are burning anyway. 

“GETOUT!“ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Robert in this story 🥺 protect at all costs.  
> WHAT IS AARON HIDING?! 🤔
> 
> Comments are love 😉


	6. Working it out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t you have questions?” he blurts out. 
> 
> “Oh, I do have questions,” Aaron admits with a small nod and then he bites his lip before he adds: “But you don’t have to tell me anything, if you don’t want to.”
> 
> Robert can’t hold the intense look of these blue eyes, he has to lower his gaze down to his cup. Out of all goddamn people, that rude, sulky PT with a horrible taste in cars and the inability to write a grammatically correct sentence on whatsapp understands him like no one ever has before.
> 
> ———  
> Robert is hangover. More Jack Sugden and then Robert makes an astounding discovery.

_Fuck._

“Fuck.“

His phone is buzzing somewhere to his left with an incoming call, but he can’t move to take it. It’s an impossible task. 

Robert‘s eyelids are still closed anyway, but he squeezes them shut until they start hurting. Maybe the new pain will make the other pain bearable - at least that is his faint hope. He should know it doesn‘t work like that.

His head is bloody _drumming._

_I hate this day already._

His mouth tastes like something crawled inside and died there. And somehow the world is spinning although he hasn‘t even opened his eyes. God, Robert loathes hangovers. At least his phone stops making that awful noise, so small mercies and that.

With a groan he rolls over and presses his forehead against the pillow. 

_Wait. Pillow?!_

He frowns against the fabric of his cushion cover. So, obviously he is lying in his bed, considering the softness underneath him.

The thing is, he can‘t remember how he got here?!

The other thing is, Robert truly loves his waterbed, he spent a shitload of money to buy it after all, right now though the slight swaying of the mattress is making his stomach flutter. And not in a good way. 

Robert has had his fair share of hangovers, he is a damn hangover expert. He knows how to handle them and rule number 1 is getting out of your bed. He realised at some point that being horizontal is a big fat no-no, it makes his headache ten times worse and his circuit drops, so Robert pushes himself up with arms that feel wobbly like spaghetti. Slowly he blinks his eyes open and groans again when the daylight hits his brain with hot daggers. 

The phone goes off again. Robert turns his head to have a look and his vision is weirdly time-shift and fuzzy. There are two things that piss him off massively: firstly, his display is broken and secondly,

**Incoming call**

Nicola King

He lets out a whine. It’s too bloody early and he is still too bloody drunk to deal with his PA. So Robert does the mature thing in this situation - he sits there and waits until the display goes black again. He’s gonna deal with Nicola later, but one task at a time. Now is the task to get up. Carefully he lifts his legs and puts his feet next to his bed on the ground, feeling the blood rushing through his veins. His heart is pounding rapidly and he takes a few deep breaths.

His left foot is nudging against something. Robert slowly looks down and blinks, confused.

There is a bucket.

Like a plastic bucket. Like the plastic bucket he uses to wipe up his kitchen floor. Why is it next to his bed? For the life of him he can’t remember putting it there. Which leads him to the next thought: what the hell can he remember?

_Stuart, the barkeeper. A pub and loads of Gin._

Another dagger pokes into his brain right above his temples. He remembers drinking one drink after another like it was water, still tastes the bitter remains on his numb tongue. 

_Aaron._

_Fuck._

_Fuck!_

Aaron was there. Aaron brought him home. This is the last thing his brain can recall from yesterday. Robert glances down at the bucket again and closes his eyes in horror and shame. Aaron must have put that bucket next to his bed, because he feared Robert might puke during the night. 

He shivers slightly and only then notices that he’s in his boxers. With a distressed noise he rips his eyes open and indeed, there are his clothes neatly folded lying on the chair next to his bedroom door. 

Apparently he was so out of it that Aaron helped him out of his clothes. 

_Great. Fucking amazing._

Robert is going to need another PT then. No way on earth he can ever face the grumpy Dingle again. He groans and rubs his forehead with both hands. The buzz of his phone stops his miserable thoughts.

It’s Nicola again.

With a sigh he caves, picks his phone up and slides his thumb over his splintered screen. It’s a miracle the display is still working at all. 

“Robert, where the hell are you?!” her angry voice cuts into his ear and makes him flinch before he could even say ‘hello’. “I have Bhandari waiting here and she is certainly not very pleased that you let her wait like this! There is only so much that coffee and snacks from the vending machine can do!” Nicola hisses.

Robert licks his lips a few times, tries to boot up his brain to work mode. Did he already mention that he hates hangovers?

“How-,” he clears his throat, “how late is it?”

“How late is it?!” Somehow Nicola manages to shriek with a hushed voice. How is that even possible? “It’s bloody _too late o’clock,_ Robert, way too late.” He is about to scold her because of her language towards her _boss_ , when her next sentence hits him like a brick. “It’s a quarter to nine.”

“What?!” Now _he_ is shrieking and tries to jump up from his bed, which is, honestly, such a bad idea, because immediately his bedroom starts getting blurry and spinning. “Why haven’t you called me sooner?!”

He grips his nightstand, his heart is beating a mile a minute, while he focuses on his breathing. As far as he remembers his appointment with Mrs Bhandari was at 8:15 and he should’ve been at work like an hour ago. Robert has never overslept his alarm, no matter how awfully drunk he was, never in all those years he was late for work. 

“Excuse me? I have! I called you six times already!” his PA snaps.

Trying to walk to his ensuite on his wobbly legs feels strange and Robert reluctantly looks into the huge mirror above his sink and winces. His eyes are glassy and bloodshot, his hair is a mess and his whole body is trembling under the sheer task of staying upright and moving. He sighs.

“I can’t come in today,” he admits finally and swallows. “Tell Mrs Bhandari I’m sorry and postpone all my other meetings today.”

He has never called in sick. But there are firsts for everything, right? 

“Oh my god, Robert, what happened?”

He expected a snippy remark, maybe even a joke on his behalf. A typical Nicola King. Instead his PA sounds genuinely worried and that caughts him totally off guard. Knowing that underneath all her bickering, her stubborn insubordination and all the fallouts they had lately, she actually cared about him, warmes his heart. Vic said, Nicola was his friend and damn, she probably truly is.

“My dad’s in hospital,” he says. 

It’s not a _complete_ lie, technically, it’s only a half lie. His dad being in hospital caused him to drink so much that it caused his hangover today. 

Even friends don't need to know everything, he supposes.

“Oh, damn, I’m sorry,” Nicola rushes out, “you look after your dad and I’ll take care of the things here, don’t you worry.”

They hang up soon after that and Robert is all of a sudden utterly relieved that he didn’t really fire her the other day. Although she wrote the handbook of ‘100 ways to annoy the shit out of my boss’, he knows deep down that she is good at her job. 

After the longest and hottest shower, he eventually feels ready for a light breakfast. His handover experience tells him that he needs food, even though he’s not hungry. His circuit needs it.

With a loud yawn and half closed eyes he walks into his kitchen to the counter to grab a bowl for his cereals. Cereals, a bit of yoghurt, orange juice, that’s the proven and tested breakfast on days like this. 

“Alright?”

Robert jumps so hard, he bangs his head against the wall cupboard and lets out a shout. He clenches the fist on his chest and turns around.

Aaron _flaming_ Dingle is sitting at his kitchen table, sipping a coffee and giving him a look as if this would be totally normal and not _freaky as fuck._

“What the hell?” he croaks out and now his head is throbbing not only because of the alcohol abuse, but also because he headbutted his furniture. Awesome. “Aaron!”

The smug fucker even gives him a smirk over the edge of his cup before he sips again.

“What are you doing here?” Robert asks, trying to get his heartbeat back under control.

_Why are you in my kitchen?_

_Did you put a bucket next to my bed?_

_Did you undress me?_

_How did you get in here - or...ohmygod...are you STILL here?!_

“Slept on your couch,” Aaron tells him casually and points with his thumb towards the living room area, before he adds with a frown, “by the way, it’s uncomfortable as hell! Where can you even buy a couch that is uncomfortable?”

“Bought it online,” Robert mutters absently, still trying to catch up with the fact that Aaron Dingle is sitting in his kitchen, sipping coffee out of his favourite mug. 

“You bought - what?! Are you shitting me? How can you buy a couch online without checking if it’s comfy?” The PT snorts. “I mean that explains _a lot!“_

“It’s a Mies van der Rohe,” he says defensively. 

“It’s a my-back-fucking-hurts-and-you-owe-me, that’s what it is,” Aaron shoots back.

Robert turns around to his cupboard, biting back a smile. Dingle is a little shit, that has to be acknowledged. And it’s kinda…

_Amazing._

Cool. Aaron is a cool guy. Underneath all that rude attitude. Robert hits the button of his espresso machine, watches the black steaming liquid slowly filling the tiny cup and thinks about last night.

Aaron stayed. For some reason his grumpy trainer stayed.

He takes his espresso and walks over to the table.

“Soooo, about yesterday…” he starts when he’s sitting down. 

Best to address the awkward elephant in the room, before it squashes someone. Aaron puts his mug on the table and waits for him to continue. 

“I’m sorry.” Robert swallows. “For, you know, my behaviour. Yesterday.”

He doesn’t really know what else to say. He can ramble for hours about the economy, stock prices, politics… hell, he could probably name the 100 most important people of the last century and the most successful pop songs of the 90s - but when it comes to himself and _feelings,_ then… yeah. No.

“It’s alright,” Aaron simply says, totally calm and it’s bloody unnerving.

“Don’t you have questions?” he blurts out. 

_Or maybe he thinks it’s totally normal for you to get wasted like that. Maybe he thinks you're an alcoholic anyway._

Great. 

“Oh, I _do_ have questions,” Aaron admits with a small nod and then he bites his lip before he adds: “But you don’t have to tell me anything, if you don’t want to.”

Robert can’t hold the intense look of these blue eyes, he has to lower his gaze down to his cup. Out of all goddamn people, that rude, sulky PT with a horrible taste in cars and the inability to write a grammatically correct sentence on whatsapp understands him like no one ever has before.

__ __ __

He heads to the hospital with a heavy feeling in his guts. He’d rather have spent all day at home after Aaron left, curled up on the couch like a hermit, but fuck, his couch actually _is_ uncomfortable! And lying all day in bed is just… not Robert. 

Once his circuit was stable enough and his stomach felt better, there was no way that he could lie down again. 

_Urgh, stupid body._

And even worse: stupid brain. It forced him to pick up his car from where he parked it yesterday and come to the hospital again, to visit his father like a good, obedient son. His brain is a colossal idiot and a masochist. Robert knows he will feel awful afterwards again, but he’s here anyway.

With a sigh he opens the door to Jack’s room and is not surprised to see Katie and Andy there. Anger raises inside of Robert, he won’t stay in the back like yesterday, like a damn idiot, so he marches towards the small bed and plasters a smile on his face.

“Hello dad! Andy. Katie.”

They startle a little and although it’s kinda mean because his father literally just had a heart attack, he feels weirdly satisfied with that reaction.

“Hello, son,” Jack greets him and Andy blurts out: “What are you doing here?”

“Oh I’m always hanging around in hospitals, because I love the smell and the uplifting atmosphere,” Robert says and rolls his eyes, “I’m visiting dad, of course.”

“Robert!” his father warns him.

And fuck, even though his old man is in a hospital bed, he still manages it to give him a look so cold, that his mouth snaps shut immediately. Oh how he hates that Jack still can make him feel like a stupid child.

“We are just surprised to see you at this time,” Katie says while she fluffs up his father’s pillow, “shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Well, I took off the first day this year, what about you?” he asks her, “Aren’t there stables to clean somewhere?”

He starts grinning. 

Deep down he is aware that his behaviour is vile and childish, but he can’t stop himself around her, Katie keeps pushing his buttons like no one else. 

“Actually, we are celebrating something!” Andy pipes up. 

And that sentence actually brings out a smile on Jack Sugden’s face that tightens Robert’s chest. His father looks… emotional.

_Why can’t you ever look like that at me?_

His brother gets up, reaches into his back pocket and pulls out an envelope. After an awkward second of hesitation Andy presses it into Robert’s hand. “Here. For you.”

He looks down. It’s a cream white envelope with glittering pink flowers in the top right and lower left corner. His name is written in neat letters on it. Robert opens the envelope, feeling the eyes of his family on him.

It’s a card. He isn’t stupid, he knows what this is before he spots the corny intertwined rings in pink glitter on the top. 

“Congratulations,” he says and can’t stop his voice from sounding stiff.

He can’t quite believe it, Katie and Andy are fighting at least once a week and yet his brother wants to marry her. So either he loves her a bloody lot or he is simply a tremendous idiot. 

_Definitely the latter. Probably both._

“Thank you,” Andy mutters, equally stiffly.

There is an awkward silence, before Katie says cheerfully: “Well, we are going to marry soon after the marathon, so you-” She smiles at his father and points her finger at him, “better fully recover until then!”

Jack laughs at her and Robert feels another stab in his chest. 

It wasn’t a secret that Chrissie and his father didn’t get on. The few times he brought her to his childhood home ended in messy fights with his family, furious tears from Chrissie on the way home and him getting drunk late at night. 

Katie is Jack’s favourite, always was. She can’t do anything wrong in his eyes. 

“Speaking of the marathon....” Andy starts and looks at him, “how’s the training going, Rob?”

Immediately he thinks of Aaron. Of how he cared about him yesterday. Of the earthshattering sex they had, the strong hands and the rough scratchy beard. He thinks of blue eyes and soft kisses. 

“Yeah. Good,” is all he says. He nods. 

God, he misses feeling Aaron. It’s been _days_ now, and… he misses feeling the warm skin. Misses breathing him in. Misses getting lost in passionate kisses. Misses lust taking over his body. 

The looks of his family are burning on his skin, suddenly reminding him where he is. Robert clears his throat and tries to shake the thoughts off.

“I am currently sorting my sponsors, I know quite a few loaded people who are willing to donate for the good cause,” he says, puffing his chest out a bit, glancing at his dad.

_Come on._

Any sign of appreciation, or heaven forbid, _pride_ would be really nice. Jack nods and that's probably all he’s gonna get. Robert deflates slowly. 

“I am going for a coffee,” Katie declares, completely ignoring Robert’s last sentence. “Anybody of you fancy something from the canteen?”

“Tea, please. Thanks, Katie,” his father says and Robert just shakes his head. He’d rather bite his tongue off than drinking that dishwater they’re selling here.

“I’ll come with you, I could do with a cake!” Andy gets up and they both leave the room.

Suddenly it’s just him and Jack. And despite how he hates how every time he visits his dad someone is already there - now he feels quite the opposite! He desperately wishes Andy would come back, because it’s just _him_ and _Jack_ , and what the hell is he supposed to say now?

There is another silence and the air feels thick and loaded with difficult emotions. Right when Robert thinks about a way to just drop a ‘bye’ and head to the exit, his father finally speaks up. 

“You know, I wish you would find someone like Katie, too.”

The sentence throws him completely off the track. Robert blinks, swallows.

_What?_

“What? Someone that cheats on me?” he sneers, before he can stop himself. 

Jack gives him a long look that makes him shift on the spot. “That was _years_ ago, Robert.”

He huffs and crosses his arms. Of course, Saint Katie will always stay in the good books of Jack Sugden - even when his own _son_ isn’t from time to time.

“You think I don’t care for you, son, but that’s not true,” his dad says and Robert holds his breath. 

Is this the moment he waited for all those years? For his father to tell him that he loves him just like Andy and Vic? His heart speeds up and his hands are getting clammy.

_Say it. Please. Say it._

“You are always so tense, Robert, so fixated on your work. All I want for you is to find a nice wife you can share your life with. Settle down.”

His guts are twisting, slowly, painfully, heating up. His whole body is heating up.

_A wife._

This is the word - four damn letters that get stuck in his head. And his mind flicks automatically to a bearded smile, to sparkling blue eyes. 

“And what if I find a man, dad?” he asks and his voice is just a shaky whisper. 

He hates feeling that small and that vulnerable, but this isn’t something he’s got under control. This is his heart on the line. This is him being 15 years old all over again. 

Without another word Jack Sugden closes his eyes, as if he’s sleeping. 

Just. like. that.

Robert is glued to the spot, simply staring at his father, cursing him silently to open his goddamn eyes again, to bloody say something, _anything!_ Jack can’t just ignore that, he can’t!

“This isn’t going away, dad,” Robert croaks out.

His eyes are starting to sting and his chest tightens again.

_This isn’t going away… but I am now._

Robert stumbles towards the door, his vision swims away when he grabs the handle. He needs to get out of here, needs to get away from Jack, needs to go somewhere where he can breathe again. On his way out he bumps into various people, some of them are shouting after him and calling him names. But their words can’t hurt him, because these people don’t matter.

__ __ __

“Robert, slow down.”

_No, fuck slow. Fuck slow down._

“Robert!”

A hand grabs his arm and causes him almost to trip and fall over. 

Thursday is trail running, meaning they are in the middle of the woods, having to be careful with stones and roots and little ditches. 

He stops finally, breathing like a steam train, closing his eyes and lifting his face towards the sky. His legs feel like jelly. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Aaron’s voice is laced with anger. 

They started about 20 minutes ago and Robert just _ran._ Like, way too fast for his own capability. He knows that, alright? But he kinda needed it. Because that’s a thing, powering oneself out, using a physical outlet for mental stress. 

_Urgh, god, I sound really like one of those sport obsessed idiots now._

He opens his eyes again.

“You are too fast! You are training for a marathon, you need stamina, not speed!” Aaron puts his hands on his hips.

His broad chest is heaving and there is a sweaty patch on his grey shirt between those delicious pecs. Robert suddenly wants to make a lunge at him, have him then and there, in the middle of the woods. 

“Especially after you hadn't had any training in the past few days and your body is still recovering from the alcohol. We need to take it slow today! Besides, what happens if you trip over a root or something and get hurt, huh?” Aaron asks him with a raised chin, “then you can kiss that marathon goodbye.”

_Maybe I should do that anyway. Just quit that shit and move on._

Honestly, why should he go through all this? He will never get praise from his father, today has proven that, hasn’t it. 

Robert is ready to blow it all off. Right in that moment the PT takes a step closer to him and puts his hand gently on Robert’s arm.

“Just think about how far you’ve come. You’re doing so well and in only 6 weeks we are going to cross the finish the line together.” Aaron smiles at him, so bright and open and soft, and suddenly something snaps inside of Robert.

“Together?” he echoes dumbly.

The hand feels hot on the cold sweaty skin of his biceps. Aaron’s blue eyes start sparkling.

“Yeah, I thought I’ll join you and we could run the marathon together and motivate each other on the way. What do you say?”

_Aaron really has long dark lashes._

Robert just stares at his PT as if he would see him for the first time. 

“Okay. Cool. Yeah. Why not,” is what he gets out eventually.

His heart is beating so fast in his chest that he fears he might pass out any second. Because of the running, Robert tells himself. He should definitely slow down now.

  
  
  


After 90 minutes Robert is done for the day. His calves are on fire, his hips are tired and he’s not sure, but he thinks he got a blister on his right foot. It burns like hell with every step. This is not the worst though. The worst is that he thought sports would help him to get his father out of his system. 

And, _haha_ , guess what. I didn’t work. Robert shouldn’t be surprised, honestly. After the past few days he should have known that a bit of running wouldn’t magically fix his mind. 

After the stretching he slumps down on the ground of the forest and buries his head into his palms. He needs so desperately a break from this fucking misery.

“You okay?” The raspy voice reaches his ears. 

“My dad had a heart attack.”

He didn’t plan on telling Aaron, but maybe it was the genuine concern in his voice or simply the fact that it’s _Aaron,_ that made him spill it out.

There is a rustling next to him and Robert feels a movement when his trainer sits down next to him.

“Fuck. How is he?”

Robert slowly pulls his hands down, dragging the skin of his cheeks with them. Then he barks out a bitter laugh.

“Oh, no worries, he’s good actually. Good enough to make me feel like shit,” he says and the words are burning like venom in his throat and on his tongue. 

Aaron stays silent then. Robert takes a secret glance to the side and sees the blue eyes watching him patiently. 

“No matter how much I try to impress him, he never is!” it bursts out of him. “He never is,” he adds a bit more quietly. “You know, he is so damn proud about my brother, that he’s going to run that marathon and so I agreed to take part, too, and I thought, maybe then…,” Robert trails off. 

He pulls his knees up and puts his arms on them. Talking about his dad feels strange, he never talked about him with anybody before. Not even with Chrissie. 

But somehow here he is, in the woods, opening up to his PT like he is a bloody shrink or something.

_Huh._

“Wanna hear a hilarious story?“ he asks and wonders for a moment if his voice only sounds a bit hysterical in his own ears. “I worked my arse off, for him to acknowledge it somehow. I started my own business, I hired employees, I work 60 hours every week,“ Robert lists off, raising his fingers as he counts his achievements, “And guess what, today he said to me that I take it too seriously! I do everything I can to impress him and it comes back to bite me in the arse. My dad would rather I find a nice _wife_ and settle down.“ He nearly spits out the word. “Isn‘t that hilarious?“

Robert feels his chin wobbling and quickly puts his hand up, leaning his head on the palm to hide it. He blinks the tears away angrily. No way is he going to cry over Jack Sugden now. 

A hand sneaks around his shoulder and then he is being pulled in a tight embrace.

His face hits Aaron‘s neck and he just closes his eyes and breathes. Strong arms are holding him and Robert is glad that Aaron isn‘t using some flat phrases to comfort him. An ‘I‘m sorry’ or - even worse - an ‘It‘ll sort itself out, it just needs time’ and he would run away, screaming. 

But Aaron isn‘t like that. The grumpy trainer is just as bad with words than he is. And that‘s why they end up sitting in silence, Robert's nose is buried right where the scruff ends and reveals the soft skin. Aaron smells like shower gel, cologne and fresh sweat. His eyes are falling shut when he feels Aaron‘s hand stroking over his back. 

Robert feels the tension of the past few days draining from his body. And his brain goes quiet.

_Fucking finally._

Damn, he knew he missed Aaron, but he had no idea how much he actually needed him.

“Robert?“

He hums.

“My arse has gone dead,“ Aaron says dryly.

Robert snorts and pulls back reluctantly. When he blinks his eyes open he is surprised to see the daylight already fading. 

_How long have we been sitting here?!_

“Look err… would you maybe come with me to my place?” he asks. “To eat something, or…” Robert trails off.

The truth is, he doesn’t trust himself being alone right now. Chances are high that he is gonna get drunk again. And although he doesn’t want this - at the same time he’s afraid he can’t break the pattern.

Aaron swallows. He watches how the Adam’s apple is bobbing up and down, then the blue eyes flick down to Robert‘s lip. There is a moment where he wants to lean in and kiss his trainer, but then Aaron coughs and gets up.

“Wait, I need to check…” the PT mutters and pulls his phone out.

Robert tries not to feel awkward while Aaron types in a message to someone. He wonders who he’s writing to, if it‘s Puppy or someone else, but he doesn’t ask. It’s none of his business, he reminds himself. 

After a moment that was too long for Robert’s liking, Aaron puts the phone away.

“Alright. Let’s go,” the PT smiles softly.

Okay, there is nothing that could stop Robert now from lunging forward and kissing him. And god, do these lips feel so good. The beard tickles his chin in the best possible way. It takes only a second for Aaron to push back against him, to grab Robert’s shirt with his fists. He starts smiling into the kiss and pulls back.

“C’mon, let’s go home.”

Only when Aaron’s breath hitches does he notice how utterly domestic that sounded.

__ __ __

They order arabic and the decision wasn’t easy at all. 

When Robert first suggested buying pizza, he got a deep sigh and the longest look in history in return. Alright, okay, fine, no greasy stuff then. God dammit, he should have known that a personal trainer would be no fun when it came to food.

Robert finally goes for a cilantro-halloumi-bowl and Aaron chooses a hummus falafel. 

He presses ‘order’ in his app. “That‘s it! Food will be here in an hour,” he announces and throws his phone on the kitchen table.

Aaron bites his bottom lip.

“Would you mind if I use your shower?” he asks and looks down at himself, “I really could use one right now.”

Robert follows his gaze. Aaron wears a grey slim fit shirt that he definitely fills out _very_ nicely and black running shorts with a black leggings underneath. Robert knows that very muscled legs with very toned calves are hidden there. 

_Aaron wants to shower…_

His dick pokes against his track pants to demonstrate an interest in this matter. 

He closes the gap and kisses Aaron fiercely. They have one hour until dinner, might as well kill the time in a satisfying way, right?

“Come on then,“ he breaths and pulls Aaron into his bathroom. 

Bless that genius idea of installing a huge walk in shower after he bought the apartment. There is enough space for both of them. Robert quickly strips Aaron and then himself - a true bonus of sports fashion: no buttons, no zips.

He kisses Aaron again and walks him slowly backwards into the shower.

God, he missed him.

How is it only days since they had sex the last time?! It feels like ages! 

He grabs blindly for the tap and they both gasp and laugh when cold water hits them. It feels good on his heated skin, refreshing, before it slowly gets warmer. 

Every shower with Aaron is exciting and this is no exception. 

Aaron grabs his arse and squeezes so hard that he gets up on his tiptoes. He moans into his trainer‘s mouth and rolls his hips. 

Their hard cocks rub against each other and heat starts spreading from his groin. 

Apparently this is like a wake up call for Aaron, because suddenly the PT takes over with a deep groan and shoves him against the cold tiles. Robert hisses.

“Fuck, yes.“

Aaron gives him a look, so hungry and clouded with lust, the blue in his eyes is almost gone, the pupils are blown, it turns Robert‘s knees to jelly. Never has anybody looked at him like this.

The scruffy face attacks his neck, kisses, licks, bites carefully and Robert bucks his hips helplessly. Aaron shoves his leg between Robert‘s, presses his thigh towards his hard cock. 

And who is Robert to say no to a bit of hot frottage? He starts humping, the water makes it easier to rub his dick against Aaron‘s skin. At the same time the trainer kisses down his left nipple and sucks roughly.

“Aaron!“

The pain is right on the perfect side and all Robert can do is hold onto Aaron‘s shoulders, because he is _this_ close of losing his footing. 

“Fuck me,“ he whispers, barely audible above the rushing of the water, while Aaron is mouthing from his left to his right pec. 

“You want it?“ Aaron says hoarsely and presses his leg harder against Robert.

He grabs Robert‘s arse again and spreads him open. A finger teasingly starts playing with his rim. 

“Yes!“ he moans, “want you.“

_Like now._

“C‘mon!“ he urges. “Please.“ 

He is not above begging when it comes to Aaron and his cock. The cock that is currently poking his hip, rock hard. Yes, he wants it. 

“Bedroom.“

It‘s one word that makes him moan. 

Somehow they stumble into his bedroom, both still wet. Robert isn‘t even sure if he turned off the water, but he doesn‘t really care, because-

“Aaron!“

The PT just wrapped his hand around Robert‘s cock and started stroking with a little twist and perfect pressure. When his calves hit the bed frame, he lets himself fall back and pulls Aaron with him.

The mattress is swaying underneath them and Aaron gives him a surprised look. He smacks with his flat palm on the sheet and the water is splashing and gurgling.

“Dammit, Robert,“ Aaron mutters with the most adorable frown ever, “your taste in furniture kills me.“

Robert wants to kiss him stupid.

And so he does. 

“Discuss furniture later, fuck now,“ he breaths against Aaron‘s scruff. 

He reaches blindly under the pillow and pulls the lube out to push it into Aaron‘s hand.

“C‘mon!“ 

Robert wriggles under Aaron to lay on his front and the trainer smacks his arse so hard, it makes him jerk.

“Stop being bossy, I‘m in charge,“ Aaron whispers with his raspy voice right into his ear. 

Robert is ready to shoot right then and there.

By the time Aaron gets a finger inside him, he is a whimpering mess, pressing his face into the blanket to muffle his desperate sounds. 

Aaron‘s touch feels so good, it‘s sending sparks through his whole body and it‘s just what he craved. 

He ends up on his back again and Aaron is on top of him. There barely is a sting, he is more than ready, aching to feel full. Robert lifts his head and watches how Aaron‘s cock slowly disappears inside of him.

_Yes! Fuck, Aaron._

And then he finally is full, stretched, and his body, his nerves are on fire. Aaron kisses him passionately, licks into his mouth and Robert goes lax underneath him, willing to take everything the other man has to offer. 

He doesn‘t think about his father, he doesn‘t think about not being good enough. Because Aaron pulls back and looks at him with so much softness and affection as if Robert is the bloody best thing he‘s ever seen. 

And then he starts fucking him, slow, with deep thrusts, almost immediately hitting his prostate. 

It knocks the air out his lungs.

Robert eyelids flutter shut. 

Yes. Yes. Yes. That‘s it. 

He wraps his legs around Aaron‘s waist and rolls his hips, tries to meet those powerful pounds. Filthy sounds of slapping skins are echoing in the room. 

His hands are stroking down on Aaron‘s back, feeling the muscles twitching and contracting, down this delicious butt. He grabs and kneads, pulls him closer to spur him on.

_Faster. C‘mon. Harder. Yes. Fuck._

Heat is coiling again, every brush over his prostate makes him shiver, Robert knows he‘s getting there.

A hand caresses his cheek, soft and carefully, and he leans into the tender touch which is such an intoxicating contrast to the hard pounding he‘s getting. 

“Robert.“ A breathless whisper followed by a broken moan.

Suddenly Aaron slows down, until he‘s only rocking slightly into him.

_No, no, no. Don‘t stop!_

He is damn close, he is about to cum, he is on the edge, he is about to fall over…

Robert opens his eyes and looks up at Aaron.

He suddenly realises that it‘s the first time they‘re doing it on an actual bed and it‘s the first time he‘s facing Aaron during sex.

The eyes are blue like the bright summer sky and locking with his own and it‘s like Aaron can see right through to his soul and he can see Aaron‘s.

Robert always thought that ‘feeling a deeper connection‘ during sex is some corny shit from Chrissie‘s romantic novels, because he never felt anything like that.

Now though. He feels it. There is something.

And something inside him snaps - _again! -_ and he is so close, he is about to cum, he is falling, he is…

He is falling in love with Aaron Dingle.

_Fuck!_

Robert cums with a shout and his vision goes white. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait for an update on this, I was so busy with the AaronDingleWeek and RememberingRobron.
> 
> Somehow this plotless smut fic got more plot than I expected at the beginning 🤣  
> I hope this is okay, guys?!
> 
> Comments are love ❤️


	7. Ignorance is a blister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thing you need to know about Robert Sugden is: he is a maker. A man of action.
> 
> Except when it comes to his private life. Then it’s a different matter: it’s “wait-until-it-goes-away-eventually”. 
> 
> It will work with Aaron, too. Robert is sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait!  
> After I wrote a few other stories, I somehow couldn‘t dive into this fic anymore... This chapter was a big struggle and I deleted and rewrote a lot. Not quite happy with the outcome, to be honest, but it will get better again!  
> Let me know what you think guys, feedback is very much appreciated. 
> 
> Little warning: somehow this smutty, plotless fic turned into a coming out story, so as we see Robert struggling there is also some slight internalised homophobia.

The thing you need to know about Robert Sugden is: he is a maker. A man of action. It’s not least due to this fact that he’s in the comfortable position he is today. Having his own business, having enough money to live a nice life, having…

Well, that’s about it actually.

But still. That’s good enough, isn’t it? That counts for something. Reaching for the next best goal, aiming more with every little step is hardly a crime. Some would say, it’s admirable. Except Jack Sugden, he would never say that of course. Fuck Jack Sugden for calling him out on being  _ ambitious _ . 

Back to Robert though. A maker, that’s right.

Except when it comes to his private life. Then it’s a different matter: it’s “wait-until-it-goes-away-eventually”. 

Hell, he avoided boring “Sugden sibling dinners”, as Vic liked to call them, for  _ years _ successfully with that strategy. It also worked when he babysitted the King kids. It’s tested. It’s efficient. 

It will work with Aaron, too. Robert is sure of it.

\------

So Aaron Dingle stayed overnight for the second time. This time he wasn‘t sleeping on the couch though, no, he is lying in Robert‘s  _ bed.  _ With Robert. Who has been totally awake since 6:30, staring at the man next to him.

There is a man sleeping in his bed. 

For the first time a bloke stayed after the sexual euphoria wore off. 

Aaron just rolled him on the side, spooned him from behind with his muscly arms, pressed him to his rock hard pecs and held him. Robert can‘t quite remember, must he have fallen asleep quickly to the soft breathing against his neck.

He stares at Aaron as if he is some rare species.

_ Maybe he is. _

Aaron is softly snoring. He looks so extremely young, being totally relaxed and not wearing that constant frown. There are tiny freckles on his nose and Robert wonders how he never noticed them before. The brown hair is curly. Robert wasn’t aware  _ how _ curly it is until now. It‘s bloody  _ fluffy.  _

It looks touchable. 

Robert balls his hands to fists, resisting the urge to reach out and shifts his gaze down to the thick, black lashes instead. 

_ He‘s got such nice lashes. _

Is that something you are allowed to think about a man? Some women spend ridiculous money on glueing those fake brooms on their eyelids, they love getting compliments about their lashes - but men? Damnit, Robert has no clue about it. 

Being like this with a man. 

It’s weird and makes his heart clench.

Maybe his father has a point after all. Being with a man isn’t like being with a woman, it’s different, it’s…

_ It’s not normal, Robert. And you know it. _

He squeezes his eyes as hard as he can, as if that would shut up that arsehole voice in his head. 

The calm, melodic alarm of his phone stops his vicious thoughts and keeps him from falling straight into the next rabbit hole. Damnit, he’s just about to get out of one, Robert thinks with gritted teeth, all the  _ feelings _ of the past few days still too raw inside him. 

Urgh. Feelings. 

They suck. He can’t believe it’s still this horror week, he can’t believe he got Vic’s call about their dad’s heart attack  _ only two fucking days _ ago. It feels like it’s been ages. 

Aaron stirs next to him, squinching up his face, slowly pushing out his arms and legs to stretch himself.

It’s ridiculously adorable.

With a little protesting huff and a tiny frown on his forehead, Aaron pulls him into a tight embrace, obviously not willing to get up yet and goes pliant again, ignoring the alarm. 

“Good morning,” Robert says and when he only gets a grunt in response, he adds with a smirk: “Guess my bed is not so bad after all.”

Aaron hums, rubs his temple like a little kitten against Robert’s shoulder and pillow, letting out a soft sigh before he stills. “Your couch is still shit though,” he rasps out with a sleepy voice. 

After ten seconds of silence, where Robert tries to get used to the intimate and foreign sensation of being held by a man the morning after, Aaron blinks his eyes open and looks around.

“God, Robert, what is this?”

It takes him a little moment to get what he means. The music. Of his alarm. 

“Good huh? It’s ‘Spa relaxation’ music,” he states the obvious. Soft flutes, piano and synthesizer are flowing through his bedroom. 

Aaron looks at him with big blue eyes like he’s lost it and snorts. “You gotta be kidding me! You’re unbelievable!” Then he chuckles again. 

“What?” 

“Mate, this is  _ bedtime _ music, not stuff for waking up!” Aaron is fully awake now - ha, the irony! - and smiling broadly at him. 

“I mean, yeah, it’s called ‘Beauty Sleep’, but I-” Robert admits and is cut off with Aaron’s loud laughter. 

The trainer has his head thrown back, the muscles of his neck are straining and his Adam’s apple is bobbing. It’s weirdly erotic and before he met Aaron, Robert never knew how sexy a laugh could be. 

_ But it is. So gorgeous.  _

He can’t help but smile along although the joke’s on him, that deep sound from Aaron’s belly is too addictive. 

“I really like it,” Robert finishes with a pout that is more a grin than a pout.

Aaron kisses him, messily, still laughing into his mouth. “You’re something else, Robert Sugden,” he whispers.

The blue eyes are so close, it’s all Robert can focus on when he flicks his gaze between them. He feels that same tug in his chest like last night. 

This overwhelming feeling of falling, of being in free fall, without sure ground. 

Robert swallows hard and kisses Aaron fiercely, leaning up and pushing him against the sheets. 

Robert doesn’t know how to be  _ in a relationship _ with a man, but he knows how to fuck.

So they do just that. Aaron doesn’t need much persuasion anyway.

\------

Life goes back to normal after that.

Jack is being released from hospital, after he had a thorough examination. His father has to take it slow now, doctor‘s orders. 

_ Thank god, I don‘t have to go into that bloody hospital anymore. _

Robert expects it‘s done now and he can finally go back to avoiding his family again. Seriously he’s had enough Sugdens for this year already.

“Andy could use a hand,“ Vic casually tells him one day, when she brings his lunch, “on the farm.“

He looks up from his monitor, frowning, because-

_ Excuse me? _

“Oh. And, will you have the time for that?“ he asks Vic.

She sighs and pinches the bridge of her little nose. 

“Robert.“

“Victoria.“

She gives him a long look and Robert can‘t fathom how she can possibly expect  _ him _ to go working on the  _ farm.  _

The goddamn place he couldn‘t leave fast enough all those years ago. 

“Look, Vic,“ he starts, holding up his hands to emphasize the following words, “I am a man for numbers, you know me. This whole outside-ish stuff, wearing wellies, walking around ankle deep in muck… that’s Andy‘s thing. He loves being surrounded by cows, I mean he‘s even marrying one.“

_ Uuuh yeah, nice one, Robert.  _

He wants to do a self five. Vic rolls her eyes, slams the food boxes unceremoniously down on the glass plate of his desk.

“Oi, careful!” he hisses, startled. Why does she have to hate this poor table so much?

She gives him another pointed look, one that Robert doesn’t like at all because it screams  _ disappointment, _ before she turns wordlessly on the spot.

“Vic…,“ he sighs.

She struts towards the door. 

“If he needs help, he can hire someone!“ Robert shouts after her. 

Because that‘s reasonable, right? If Andy can‘t manage the workload on his own, he needs to hire staff. A farm is just a business too, after all. 

Vic doesn‘t stop, just keeps walking. When she‘s out of his door, he jumps up from his chair, runs after her.

“Vic!“ he pokes his head out of his office, leaning against the doorframe. “Tell Andy I can check the books for him if he wants!“

It‘s honestly the most he is willing to offer. Not that his little sister is impressed that he‘s biting the bullet - she‘s marching off without looking back. He waits until she‘s around the corner, then he lets out a little sigh and turns around-

_ Ah fuck! _

He flinches back with a manly shriek, because Nicola is only inches away from him. 

“What have you done now?“ his PA asks and she sounds bored.

“Why do you assume automatically that  _ I _ must have done something?“ he frowns and now  _ she‘s _ giving him a long look.

Urgh, he‘s really been looked at way too much in the past five minutes. He huffs, rolls his eyes and shuts the office door in her accusing face.

Yeah, things are really going back to normal now.

\------

Almost everything goes back to normal, but of course there is always an exception.

Robert thought he’d get it back under control, these feelings for Aaron. 

His  _ personal trainer, _ for fucks sake, how clichè is this?!

Yeah, well, cough cough and haha. Turns out it’s surprisingly pretty hard to fall  _ out _ of love with someone who you’re seeing  _ all the damn time! _ It’s five weeks until the marathon and they are still training six out of seven days. Usually. 

Sometimes Aaron cancels short notice due to other ‘responsibilities’ he’s got. Whatever that means. Robert tries not to be jealous, just like he tries not to fall in love and he sucks massively at both. 

Gym day is still the worst - and not because of the working out, no. Robert’s muscles are well toned after two months of regular sessions with Aaron and the exercises aren’t that hard anymore.

It’s his dick that’s hard.

It’s a problem. Because gym gear basically hides nothing. And that goes not only for Robert’s omnipresent boner, but also for Aaron’s glorious body. Seriously why is his trainer so fucking hot?

_ God, damn that arse! _

He is staring at Aaron who is performing his tenth squat with a barbell on his shoulders and it’s pure torture.

“Keeping a straight back is the key and you try to keep your knees at a right angle at the deepest point,” Aaron breathes.

It’s kinda cute that he still tries to give some actual advice although Robert isn’t even listening. 

_ Down _ \- oh dear, the fitted shirt rides up a bit, offers a little glimpse of a strip of bare skin on his lower back and Aaron sticks his butt out. 

_ Up _ \- Aaron puffs his chest out and squeezes his arse.

“Squeeze the glutes when you’re up again.”

_ Oh yes. Squeeze them. Squeeze them good. _

“Robert.”

“Hm?” he snaps out of it, eyes flying up to Aaron’s face, where they are met with a knowing smirk. 

“Are you even listening?” Aaron is standing there with the barbell still behind his neck and looking at him with a fond expression.

“Yep. Squeeze your arse. Got it.” He nods. 

The expression gets even softer, the smile wider. The hamster cheeks are showing and Robert loves them. He loves that whole face. And his heart does a weird hiccup, reminding him almost painfully, that this isn’t just a physical attraction anymore.

Yes, the body is hot, hot as hell. But that whole Aaron-package is… amazing. 

_ Get a grip! _

That’s not good at all. Robert wants to bang his head somewhere to make this feeling in his chest go away. The little fuck buddy arrangement, he reminds himself, that’s what he wants. No strings attached, no bullshit, no obligations. Uncomplicated.

He throws himself into training after that, just to keep his body occupied with something other than thoughts about Aaron Dingle’s delicious pecs. Squats, leg press, weight lifting and even burpees-

_ Fuck those evil fucking burpees! _

-god, Robert hates them, but he grits his teeth, jumps down, does his push up and jumps up again. Aaron is counting and spurring him on. 

He beats his personal best and his trainer is smiling broadly with bright blue eyes at him and Robert wishes he could feel proud as well, but he is too busy trying not to vomit on Puppy Barton’s gym floor and to ignore that sharp tug of his heart. 

When Aaron looks at the clock on the wall and calls it a night, Robert lets out a relieved sigh. The walk to the locker rooms feels weird, he is swaying on his jelly legs as if he’s drunk. A warm hand sneaks on his lower back and stabilises him. 

Aaron and his damn sweet little gestures. Robert swallows hard. 

Instead of going into Aaron’s small private locker room that they are always using both to get showered and dressed, the trainer guides him to the right, opens the door and switches the lights on.

Inside this new room is a massage table and a white sideboard with pink flowers… plastic flowers, Robert reckons regarding the lacking windows of this room and wrinkles his nose.

_ Trust Puppy and his cheap taste. _

Various posters on the yellow wall are showing yoga positions, a hot stone treatment and a woman who gets oil poured over her forehead. 

“I figured that you like massages and stuff,” Aaron says and pulls out large towels out of the cabinet, “with that alarm you have and all.”

He winks at him and Robert’s just standing there dumbfounded, trying to connect the dots and figure out what they’re doing here.

“Get naked and then  _ hop hop _ on the table,” Aaron pats the soft pad and throws a towel over it.

“What?”

“Can’t give you a massage with your clothes on, can I?”

It takes Robert all of one second before he springs to action and starts stripping so quickly that he’s almost tripping over his pants. 

He climbs on the table, suddenly stopping, unsure.

“How do you want me?”

The words are out before he could think about them and his dick twitches at how this sounded. 

Aaron lets his gaze wander over Robert’s naked body, before he decides: “On your front.”

The blue eyes darken slightly and the air is filled with a sexual tension that Robert can almost taste on his tongue. He lies down on his stomach and his half hard cock pokes against the rough fabric of the towel underneath him. Feeling hyper aware of his naked arse, he shifts around on the table and the friction does nothing to erase his erection. 

Aaron dims the light and a second later soft music starts, just like the one Robert uses to wake up. 

He chuckles softly. 

God, his trainer is full of surprises.

Another towel is being laid across his butt and it feels warm on his skin. Robert suppresses a shiver and closes his eyes. 

He hears a rustling and then he feels Aaron‘s presence near his right hip. Something hits his back between his shoulder blades, a sweet, flowery smell reaches his nose and it takes a moment to realise it‘s the massage oil that's slowly running down his spine. 

“It’s lavender,” Aaron says hoarsely, “It’s relaxing.”

Robert just hums at that, still smiling. Then two hot hands are stroking over his back with a perfect pressure, squeezing his shoulders. The oil provides a perfect slide. He can’t stop himself from groaning happily. 

“Mmmfff.”

The thumbs are drawing circles on his skin, along his spine down to his lower back, then flat palms are pushing up again. It feels like heaven.

“Didn’t know you are a masseur as well,” Robert mutters and has to slurp up his spit, because he is  _ this _ close to drooling on the table. “Was that part of your trainer qualification?”

There is a moment of silence before Aaron answers. “No.”

It sounds like there’s more behind this simple reply. “So learning by doing then?” Robert jokes.

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Do all your clients get this treatment then?” He can’t stop his stupid mouth. It’s just… he doesn’t know much about Aaron Dingle, not nearly as much as he  _ wants _ to know. 

Another pause while the hands keep kneading his shoulders. “No.”

Warmth spreads inside Robert’s chest. Knowing that this is something special for Aaron too. Because it is. Special. 

Robert never got a massage like this. Chrissie always demanded to be on the receiving end of backrubs, not the giving one. 

“Did you always want to be a personal trainer?” 

Aaron snorts. “No. I was err… actually a mechanic for years.”

“Really?!” He really doesn’t know much about Aaron, does he! “Well that explains the grip.”

As if to prove a point, Aaron squeezes his neck tightly and makes him hiss. A raspy chuckle above him. 

“Worked in my uncle’s garage. It wasn’t bad, but I wanted to start my own business. Be my own boss, you know?”

_ I know. _

He knows too well. He hums again.

Robert feels himself basically melting into the pad of the table as the massage goes on. It’s perfect, the grip is firm and still gentle, the pain right on the good side. 

Aaron’s hands stroke down and down and down… not stopping at his lower back this time. The fingertips disappear under the towel, striking over his buttcheeks. 

_ Or… not so relaxing anymore. _

The motion is being repeated a few times, the towel slowly slides more and more over the back of his thighs, exposing his butt. 

His dick has softened in the past few minutes, but now Robert’s blood is quickly rushing south again as the atmosphere in the room is shifting.

Aaron’s strong hands are lingering longer on his arse, kneading, pinching. Every so often the cheeks are getting pulled apart and Robert feels his hole clenching. Maybe it’s just his imagination, but Aaron’s breathing is a bit louder now, harsher. 

And woah, Robert has seen countless of porn clips that started like this,  _ Massage With Happy End  _ is a beloved classic in his search bar, really. Now though, being in the middle of exactly this scenario and one of his oldest fantasies becoming reality…

_ Fuck yes! God, Aaron. C’mon. _

He’s pushing his butt up, shifts his legs rather unsubtly further apart until his feet reach the edges of the table. 

“Robert…” Aaron whispers behind him and it sounds strained.

“Yeah,” he breathes back. 

He wants the finger. He wants to get fingerfucked on the massage table in Puppy Barton’s gym. The thought alone makes him leak precum on the towel underneath him. 

Suddenly one hand disappears and Robert makes a protesting noise.

“Shhh. I got you.”

_ I got you. _

That sentence shoots right into his groin and he humps the table. 

I got you.

_ Oh fuck, Aaron _ . 

His heart is doing a little hiccup, thumping hard against his ribs as if it wants to jump out of his chest. 

Aaron’s holding him open, then he feels something soft touching his crack. It’s the oil again, dripping down his hole, his perineum and over his balls. Robert groans at the sensation, imagining how this must _ look  _ and spreads his legs further.

A finger starts stroking up and down the sensitive area, spreading the oil everywhere, drawing soft circles on his rim. When it finally pushes in, Robert’s eyes roll back. It feels so good. The second one follows quickly - Aaron knows by now that he can take it - and yes, that’s it. A little sting and that amazing feeling of being filled. The fingers are flexing and twisting, searching.

Robert moans loudly when they finally find what they were looking for. 

Aaron is fucking him with his fingers and Robert ruts against the towel in the same rhythm. Another digit is nudging at his entrance and he arches his back, pushes his arse up.

“God, Robert…” Aaron whispers breathless and then the third finger slides in. “Look at you, look at that arse of yours, so fucking perfect, God yes…”

He muttering nonstop now, sounding totally wrecked and it spurs Robert on even more to fuck himself back on Aaron’s hand and forward into the table. The friction, the constant assault of his prostate, the mental image of his porn fantasies - it’s becoming too good too quick. 

Robert whines when the heat is running down his spine, knowing that he’s getting there. The urge to cum is overwhelming and at the same time he doesn’t want it to end. He feels like bursting.

_ Aaron! Yes, Aaron! Oh my god, I’m close, so good, I’m close, keep going _

Robert isn’t sure if he’s just thinking all of this or actually moaning it, he is too far gone in his head, but then Aaron leans down and whispers into his ear: “So gorgeous and needy for me. You wanna cum, Robert? Cum for me then. Cum.”

The sting intensifies and Robert realises with his dazed mind that Aaron just pushed in a fourth finger. That in combination with the hot breath ghosting over his ear is pushing him over the edge.

He grunts against the towel and the heat explodes inside him. Robert‘s whole body is spasming on the table, shaking helplessing when his orgasm hits him in waves of pleasure. 

When he comes down to earth his ears are still swooshing, but he hears Aaron‘s harsh breaths behind him. Turning his head takes incredible strength in his current state, but he wants to see him.

The PT is standing next to the massage table, sporting a massive tent in his training shorts, his eyes are dark and the lips red as if he bit them. 

“Come on, let‘s shower.“

“Shouldn‘t I…“ Robert starts, nodding towards the bulge. He licks his lips.

“Yeah, but let‘s go in the shower first,“ Aaron says and helps him to get up, “Adam will kill me if he finds us here like this.“ 

Robert‘s body feels like jelly, but he actually stiffens up at that. “What? Didn‘t you lock the door?“

“I don’t have a key, do I,“ Aaron shrugs-

He, honest to God,  _ shrugs!  _ This man is unbelievable!! 

“Wasn‘t planning on giving you a happy ending.“

Robert snickers and struggles to pull on his shorts as quickly as he can, while Aaron throws the towels into the laundry container.

“You know, I am a sucker for a happy end,“ Robert teases, winking at Aaron.

Ah, he loves that post-orgasmic bliss.

Aaron snorts and shoves him playfully towards the door. They cross the hallway, giggling like stupid teenagers, hoping that no one‘s seeing them.

Aaron gets an enthusiastic thank-you-blowie in the shower, because Robert is also a sucker for his dick. 

\------

Robert is  _ this _ close to asking Andy for a rusty nail that he can stick into his damn eye, because looking at the books of the farm is giving him a thrumming headache and will be following him in his dreams tonight. 

This really is the stuff of nightmares. 

It‘s devastating. 

Food expenses are immense, Andy admits reluctantly that his father ordered masses of fodder, but then they discovered it got mouldy. The hot deal turned out to be a rip off and Jack had to order again.

_ If you buy cheaply, you pay dearly. _

Well, if that wasn‘t a sentence that his father himself loved to recite at the lunch table? The fucking irony.

Electricity bills are just as ridiculous. On top of it all, the machinery is old and raised high amounts of repair costs during the past year.

And that‘s just the tip of the iceberg.

Robert rubs his temples.

Like he offered, he is here, back in that musty old farmhouse, checking the books. Because no one shall say he doesn‘t care about his father. 

And it’s true, isn’t it. He  _ does _ care.

His life could be so much easier, if he wouldn’t. He could just walk out of this shitshow, flipping them off and telling them where to shove it. 

But no. Instead he  _ cares.  _ After everything that his father said and did - and didn’t say and didn’t do. 

Robert lets out a long breath.

“That bad, huh?“ Andy says and sits down next to him, placing a mug with coffee in front of Robert, while blowing his own.

They are alone in Jack's kitchen. His father is taking a walk with Katie and Vic is working. It’s a rare brotherly moment and Robert can‘t even remember when that happened the last time. 

“Bad would be an euphemism,“ Robert says and takes the cup. “Ta.“

They stare at the folders and papers on the table in front of them. It‘s fucking depressing.

Yes, Robert hates the farm. No, he doesn‘t want it to go bankrupt. It‘s his mom‘s legacy as well. 

_ She would be devastated seeing the state of it. _

“I knew it was a mistake letting him run the business while I was out there, but he insisted on doing it,“ Andy sighs. “You know how stubborn he is.”

Oh yes, Robert does know. All too well. He nods slowly. 

It‘s weird hearing Andy talk like that and it‘s weird just listening like that. The absence of banter and sarcasm feels foreign.

“What do you suggest?“

Robert is taken aback. Andy asking for his opinion - is this really happening? He shifts on his seat. 

“Well, I‘d invest in solar energy. I don‘t get why dad didn‘t do it when the government even paid money for every generated kilowatt hour,“ Robert shakes his head, “but you can still cut those electricity costs and make some profit with it. Besides, you really need to buy new machinery, Andy. Those rattletraps are mostly held together by rust. I drove that one tractor when I was a  _ kid!  _ And I remember that damn thing was already old back then!”

Andy looks at him. “You mean, you almost crashed it against the barn.“ He smiles and Robert feels a tug on his own lips at the memory. 

A wave of nostalgia washes over Robert, threatens to drown him. He’s missing his brother. He’s missing  _ this _ brother. They  _ had _ this kind of relationship, once. Before puberty caused them to drift apart.

“I don‘t have that kind of cash, Rob,“ Andy then admits quietly. “You‘ve seen the numbers.“ 

“I can lend it to you.”

Only when Andy’s head whips around so quickly that his coffee almost spills over, Robert realises what he just said. 

“You would do that?” Andy asks with big eyes.

Robert clears his throat awkwardly. It doesn’t make the lump go away unfortunately. “Yeah, well... of course we would have to set up a contract… and you‘re gonna pay me back with interest, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Andy agrees and smiles. “We wouldn’t wanna assume you're actually doing this as a good deed for your family.”

Robert is straining his ears to hear if there’s an edge in his brother’s voice, but he finds none. It sounds nothing but genuinely friendly.

“Please, what are you thinking?” he scoffs, pretending to be hurt, “I gotta maintain the reputation.”

  
  
  
  


Vic arrives not long after that and it‘s surprisingly nice. The three of them, without Katie or their father.

She starts cooking and blackmails Robert into cutting the veggies (“Do you want lunch next week or not?“) and Andy has to set the table. 

Robert finds himself actually enjoying this whole Sugden sibling thing, until-

“So, will you bring that mysterious boyfriend of yours to the wedding?“ Andy asks Vic.

His sister tenses up next to him and Robert almost cuts himself in the thumb, because

_ What?! _

Vic has a boyfriend? 

He hadn‘t known. But apparently Andy does.

There is this well-known sting in his chest, the knowledge that despite of what he  _ might _ have felt during the last hour - the truth is he is still the outsider.

“I haven‘t talked to him about it yet… it‘s still early days…“ She casts a glance at him.

Yeah right, as if that would explain why she hasn‘t told him. She comes into his office every day, they chat  _ every day, _ and she didn‘t mention her new boyfriend  _ once.  _

Somehow he always assumed she would talk to him about something major like having a new bloke. Robert chops the tomatoes with sharp jabs. 

It‘s awkward now, between him and Vic, but of course Andy is oblivious.

“It‘s alright! I think Katie said we‘ll manage to fit him in, you know, if you wanna bring him. She‘s going on about that seating plan for days now!“ he chuckles and places the plates on the dining table.

“And what if I bring a plus one too?“

_ Fuck. _

Honestly. Why does he have zero brain-to-mouth-filter in moments like these? Robert wants to slap himself when he feels his sibling‘s looks burning on his body. 

“Do you  _ have _ a plus one?“ Vic raises her eyebrows.

Robert closes his eyes for a brief second. He sees blues eyes and a dark stubble, perfect lips and fluffy curls. He still feels the ghost of Aaron’s hot, oily hands on his body, touching him like nobody ever has before, making him feel like he never felt before. 

And for the shortest moments it feels real.

Suddenly he wants to tell them. He wants to talk to someone about Aaron, about all these feelings bubbling and boiling inside him. It’s like he’s bursting with them. Robert can almost taste the words on his lips.

“Actually I-”

The door flies open and the voice of Jack is booming through the corridor: “Andy, you won’t believe- Oh!”

His father is standing in the kitchen door, Katie directly behind him, looking at Vic and Robert with an astonished expression. 

The words die in Robert’s throat.

“I didn’t know you were here!” his father says and walks to Vic and gives her a kiss on the cheek, before he turns around to him. “Robert.” 

He nods back, feeling dumb and uncomfortable. 

It’s like a bucket of ice cold water has been dumped over his head. He can’t talk about Aaron now, with his father and Katie being here. Uh-uh, no way. 

Robert hates how Jack’s gaze is on his face, as if he is surprised to see him here. As if he is trying to figure out why he’s here at all. 

_ Because I don’t belong here. _

“What did you want to say, Rob?” Vic reminds him.

Robert swallows. “Nothing,” he says and looks down at the tomato in his hand. “Nothing.”

He starts chopping again.

\------

It’s nothing.

That‘s right.

It definitely can never be  _ anything.  _

Robert is lying in his bed, trying to sleep for a good hour now, but he keeps tossing and turning around. The water gurgles underneath him. There is no sleep in sight. Today‘s events are replaying over and over in his head.

He was so close to telling Vic and Andy, but then all his bravado left him as soon as his father arrived. Still feeling that cold gaze of those brown eyes on his skin, Robert wants to curl himself up into a ball, as small as possible.

What was he thinking? Bringing Aaron to Katie’s and Andy’s wedding? And then what? Dancing with him? Holding hands with him? Introducing him to his father? 

_ Hey dad, this is my boyfriend. _

_ Ridiculous. Impossible. Get a fucking grip and stop being pathetic, Robert. _

This can never happen and he knows it.

The mental image alone, about bringing Aaron as his partner to those awful cliché business events, where rich CEO’s loved to show off their petite affairs in little black dresses while their women were at home, clueless. 

Having a boyfriend is just a crazy idea, a fantasy. A bubble. 

Reality is like a sharp needle. 

Robert’s chest is clenching around his lungs and he groans, being annoyed with himself. God, he hates being like this. So damn  _ emotional. _

How could it come this far in the first place! 

Emotions suck! He craves his old self - confident, rational, controlled. 

Besides, he doesn‘t know much about Aaron Dingle. This whole fuzzy-feelings-thing is probably one-sided anyway.

Robert needs to remind himself what this is.

A business deal with benefits. Aaron and him are having a satisfying fuckbuddy-arrangement and after the marathon they would go separate ways again. 

Out of sight, out of mind. That’s a saying - and there is a truth in every saying. Which is also a saying, so this makes it  _ double true.  _

_ Happy endings are for fairytales and porn.  _

And neither are real. 

Four weeks. It’s only four weeks now until the marathon. All Robert has to do is wait. 

And then… the problem would solve itself.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently dirty talk is a little kink of mine 🙈
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE UP ON MONDAY! 🙌🏻
> 
> Comments are love. 🥺❤️


	8. Heels over head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert first gets an advice and in the end a shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-daa!
> 
> I wrote the last two chapters almost in one go, so here is the update already! 😊  
> I have added a tenth chapter, just so you all know how well I plan these stories beforehand 🤣, I felt like this story needs two more chapters.
> 
> Let me know what you think.... 😬

“It‘s just… It‘s all such a mess and I _hate_ a mess. I don‘t know what to do… I mean, I tried! I really did. But how can you keep a distance from someone who you are seeing six days a week?“ Robert rakes his hands through his hair. 

Seriously, you can‘t. That‘s the answer. 

Especially since the person who you want to distance from doesn‘t know you want to distance. So of course Aaron kisses him after training, blows him after training, fucks him after training.

And sure, Robert _could_ say ‘no’. In theory.

In theory he _should_ say ‘no’.

He knows it‘s not good to still fucking with Aaron Dingle, not since he discovered his stupid _feelings._ It’s messing with his head - and, what’s even worse, with his heart. 

But then Aaron kisses him and grabs him, presses his body against him and makes a deep noise in the back of his throat and Robert is gone. All the brakes in his head loosen, all the reasoning goes out of the window just like that. 

“I want to go back to how uncomplicated things were in the beginning! That was perfect! Just...you know, a fruitful arrangement. And now it’s all complicated and if there’s one thing I definitely don’t need added to my life, it’s _‘complicated’!_ I wish I just knew how to stop feeling… all this...so...so…,“ Robert flails his hands and lets out an exasperated breath. 

“In love?” Jimmy offers and slurps his coffee.

Yup, Robert Sugden reached a stage where he confides in Jimmy King. 

_Fuck my life._

It’s a goddamn tragedy and as much as he wishes, he can’t even blame booze this time, because he’s sober as a judge right now. 

He came into his favourite cafè earlier on this Sunday afternoon, yearning for a blonde caramelised almond macchiato and two giant chocolate cookies. His body demanded sugar, although he’s not allowed to have it - according to Aaron’s new food plan. (“We‘re on the finishing stretch, Robert, we need to stay focused.“)

_Well, what Aaron doesn’t know…._

Robert groaned, because he couldn‘t escape those thoughts of his PT. Whatever he did, wherever he went - the trainer was with him _all the time._

When he turned around, holding the approximately 1268 calories on a tray, he saw Jimmy King waving at him with a broad smile. 

“Robert! Over here!“ 

He cursed silently, because he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t seen him, could he. Robert bit the bullet and walked over to his PA’s husband. Jimmy was eating cake with Girl and Younger-Boy and gestured to the empty seat.

“Jimmy,” he greeted and nodded towards the kids, who smiled back at him. “Where’s Older-Boy?”

“Who?”

“I think he means Elliot, daddy,” Girl helped out, stuffing cake in her mouth and Robert always knew she was the clever one.

Jimmy narrowed his eyes irritatedly at him and said slowly: “Football match. With Nicola.”

They ate their sweets and drank their coffee and at some point, he just started talking, baring his soul in front of Jimmy King.

Robert stares on his empty plate and blames the sugar this time. He hadn't had proper sweet food for weeks and now he is almost rushing high on candy. 

_In love…_.

He just shrugs miserably and crosses his arms.

“Look,”Jimmy starts, “as far as I see it from what you told me… this lad is decent, right?” 

Decent, ha. That’s an understatement. Aaron is nothing but amazing. Under that gruff shell is an honest soul, funny, caring and gentle. Robert nods in response to Jimmy’s question. 

“Then I don’t know what your problem is!” Jimmy raises his eyebrows. “You should tell him, Robert. Give it a try.”

It sounds so damn easy. Robert huffs out a deep breath. 

“What? Do you think this Aaron doesn’t feel the same?”

“That’s not it,” he mutters and shakes his head slightly. 

Jimmy is nudging him, clearly in an encouraging way to finally spill it. 

Damnit, Jimmy flaming King, of all people.

_Maybe it is good to talk to a neutral party, get a second opinion and all that. It’s what business people do, right?_

Robert is glad that his brain is trying to be helpful for once with this supply. 

“I’ve never been with a man,” he admits quietly. “Like… together.”

Jimmy’s mouth falls open and his eyes grow big and his whole face looks almost comical. “As in… S-E-X?” he hisses with a hushed voice.

Robert wants the ground to swallow him up. He casts a quick glance to the King kids who are listening and watching him closely, 

_Note to future self: don’t talk to Jimmy King ever again._

-before he hisses right back. “No. Jesus Christ. As in a R-E-L-A-T-I-O-N-S-H-I-P.”

He meant it as a sarcastic joke, but Jimmy honestly squints his eyes, looks into the distance and bobs his head slightly. He is obviously trying to string the letters together… a process that takes him almost 4 seconds in total. 

“Oooohhh!” he finally breathes, looking relieved. “Riiiight.”

Robert wants to bang his head on the table. 

“Well, I guess it’s not so different from being with a woman…” Jimmy says earnestly.

_Jimmy King, bisexual guru._

“I mean… apart from the…” Jimmy does an awkward movement, a combination between nod and shrug, “you know, the… _thing.”_ He laughs, like typical men in their mid-forties laugh after they told a dirty joke. 

_Jimmy King, heterosexual idiot._

“What are they talking about?” Younger-Boy stage-whispers to Girl.

“Duh. The _bees._ Idiot!“ She rolls her eyes and honestly, Robert likes her the most. 

Silence stretches then and Robert starts stirring his caramelised almond macchiato and thinks about what Jimmy said.

It really sounds so easy. 

And Robert is admittedly pleased how nonchalant Jimmy is with his sexuality. Just like Nicola. Or Vic. Even Andy knows that he‘s bi and the fact he’s never said something about it also means he’s never said anything _bad_ about it either. Robert counts this as something positive.

So, his family and the few people he considers as friends are pretty chill about him being bi. 

Except his father. 

It‘s Jack who‘s holding him back, he realises. That inner arsehole voice that sounds sooo much like his dad sometimes. 

Robert groans at himself. Jack is like a brake chock of his life and he doesn‘t want that. He hates the thought that his father is somehow controlling him and holding him back, it’s sickening him to his guts. No fucking way on earth is he willing to step back from something _good_ just because his dad doesn’t approve. He is a grown up, for fucks sake. A successful company boss. 

Maybe he should-

“Mr S?“ Younger-Boy pulls at the sleeve of his shirt, giving him a quizzical look. “Are you a beekeeper?“

— — —

Robert Sugden never thought he’d see the day where he goes to bed with flaming Jimmy King. Well, with his words in Robert’s mind, but still. 

It’s past 10 now and he is replaying that conversation with Jimmy over and over in his head.

His last bit of advice to go for it hadn’t been that bad to be honest….

 _Even_ _a blind squirrel finds_ _a nut once in a while._

His brain decides going back to being unhelpful as per usual. But Jimmy could be a goddamn clever blind squirrel, because Jimmy could be right again. Ha, so take that, brain!

The ringtone of his phone stops all thoughts. 

**Incoming call...**

Aaron Dingle, PT

Robert stares at his splattered display and his heart does a little flip and clench. Aaron calling him on a Sunday evening at this time can hardly be something good. Maybe he’s getting cancelled again. 

With heavy dread inside he presses the green button.

“What, you missed me that much on your free day that you had to call me?” he says, aiming for a joke.

Offence is the best defense and all that.

He gets a warm chuckle. “How does your ego even fit into your apartment?”

Robert can’t do anything but smile at that. It’s not quite the answer he secretly was hoping for, but still, that start to the phone call makes him all mushy inside. 

“You could get rid of that ugly couch of yours to make more room for it,” Aaron suggests.

“Ex- _cuse_ me?” Robert says indignantly and touches his chest although nobody can see him.

“I don’t care if it’s from Mischief or whatever that swanky online shop was called.”

Robert breaks out in hysterical laughter at that. Only the grumpy trainer would mix up a world famous architect and designer like Mies van der Rohe with mischief and assume it’s an online shop. 

“Just get rid of it, Robert,” Aaron says, when he calmed down a bit again. It sounds like he’s smiling.

“Are you finished insulting my furniture now and is there something _real_ you wanted to talk about?” 

“Oh, yeah. Right. I wanted to change your training plan since it’s only three weeks until the marathon now.”

“O-kay…” Robert says warily, dreading Aaron’s further explanations already. That surely can’t mean anything good. 

“So, I would like to do a long jog with you very soon, I’m talking about 20 miles and then reduce our running sessions to three a week to give your body time to recover for the marathon. I was hoping you could take an afternoon off this week for the long jog.”

_Oh!_

They never went such a distance so far. And it still isn’t the full 26 miles, it’s far away from it. Robert swallows. 26 miles sounds an awful lot! An awful, terrifying lot. 

“Look, it’s only a few weeks left and I really think you’re ready to go for it,” Aaron goes on with that deep scratchy voice. “If you manage the 20 miles, you can do the rest as well. You achieved so much during the past few weeks, honestly it’s incredible what you did so far and now you’re so close to crossing the finish line. You should be proud of yourself, Robert.”

And damn, Aaron’s praise is pushing all his buttons and Robert feels the sudden fear melting away quicker than a Cadbury Giant Button in the bloody desert. 

“Thought we cross it together?” He didn’t mean to say it out loud and bites his tongue so hard that it makes him squirm on the bed.

“Yeah, course. I’d love that.”

“Okay.”

“Okay…?”

“Okay, I’ll check my calendar. I think tuesday might work,” Robert says, already clearing the appointments in his head. It’s only a team meeting and one client, if he remembers it right.

“Nice!” Aaron says with an audible grin.

They go silent after that and Robert starts immediately overthinking this conversation. He loves how freely Aaron gives out praise. Something that he is definitely not used to. Before Aaron came along, probably the last person who said a genuine ‘well done’ to him was his mum. The trainer just seems to have a sixth sense for when Robert needs the encouragement.

_What if he feels the same?_

The thought flushes in hot waves through his body, makes him buzz. 

All the time he was so wrapped up in his own head, busy with his own processing that he didn’t give that much thought about the other side really. Now though, after that pep talk from Jimmy? Yes, he wonders what Aaron is thinking about the whole friends-with-benefit-thing. 

“What are you up to?“ Aaron‘s scratchy voice makes him shiver. 

“Err, not much…”

_Just, you know, wondering if you love me back._

“Just a bit of reading.“ Robert clears his throat. “What are you up to?“

He’s thought a lot - and probably way too much - about what Aaron does in his free time. 

His trainer doesn‘t seem the reading type, to be honest - Robert imagines him glaring long enough at a book until bloody Alexa takes pity on him and orders to play the audio book _herself._

Surely Aaron liked movies though. Action movies, Robert reckoned. 

“Off to the shower now and then I’ll hit the sack. It‘s been a chaotic day,“ Aaron breathes out. 

Immediately Robert‘s mind is in the gutter. 

Aaron plus shower equals horny Robert.

It's the universe's maths. 

“Showering you say…“ he hums with a smirk, picturing their last gym appointment all too well in his head. 

In slow motion. And technicolour. Aaron hums back and damn, he is probably thinking the same. Robert‘s dick is giving an interested heads up at this unexpected turn of the conversation.

“Since you‘re not with me I might actually get clean this time,“ Aaron jokes.

“I remember I cleaned you very thoroughly though…“ Robert dips his voice a bit deeper.

That mental image how he fingered Aaron open with the soap… fuck, he still feels the trainer clenching around his fingers, he still hears him moaning. He still sees him fucking himself back against Robert’s hand.

Is he just imagining it or is Aaron breathing louder now?

“I remember, too.“

“Yeah?“

“Yeah.“ Just a breath. 

Robert shivers all over and his hand is sneaking under the blanket, over his belly down to his crotch. He is half hard already. 

“Are you touching yourself now?“ Aaron rasps out.

God damn, his voice! So deep and scratchy and fucking sexy. It travels from Robert‘s ear straight to his cock. 

“Mmh.“ 

“Fuck, Robert.“

“You?“

“Yeah.“

He strains his ears and yes, he can hear fabric rustling. The mental image of Aaron wanking right _now_ drives him crazy. 

“Wish I could see you,“ he whispers, “wish I could see what you‘re doing.“

Robert never did phone sex before. It‘s a bit weird and he feels strangely shy - hilarious, considering how often he had Aaron‘s tongue in his arse, but apparently doing it over the phone makes him blush. 

“Wish you could be here…“ Aaron presses out and then he moans softly. 

And yes, he wants that too, he wants to be with Aaron, get his hands all over that toned body, feel the hot smooth skin against his own. Rub himself against him. Kiss him until their lips are numb and there’s stubble rash on his chin. Robert shoves his pants down and pulls his rock hard cock out. 

“What would you want me to do?”

“I want you to suck me.”

Robert groans helplessly.

_Oh my fucking god, Aaron!_

He didn’t expect his grumpy PT to be so open and blunt on the phone. Holy fuck. 

Robert hurries to pull out lube from under his pillow and struggles to get the bottle open. Fuck, he needs to jerk off, now!

Putting Aaron on speaker, he places the phone next to his head. With two free hands he pops the little cap open.

“I love sucking you,” he admits, when he finally gets a lubed up hand around his dick. 

“Mmmmh, love your mouth. Love when you let me fuck it,” Aaron pants.

Robert hears him jerking off, the quiet squelching sounds, the rustling of the sheets. Harsh breaths are rasping out of the speakers. 

He speeds his own movements up. 

“You look so damn gorgeous on your knees with your lips around my cock.”

_Fuck! Fuck, Aaron!_

So, dirty talk is definitely a thing that gets him off, because Robert feels like bursting already and they only just started. The hoarse voice and Aaron’s words, the images in his head…

He can almost feel Aaron’s dick, the heavy weight pressing on his tongue, the typical bitter taste of precum in his mouth, the slight burn in his throat when Aaron pushes in. 

“Aaron…” 

“And you’re sucking it so good, Robert, doing so good.”

He moans loudly at that, can’t hold it back. The sentence lights his whole body with a burning passion. Robert’s back arches off the mattress. Shit. It’s so good, Aaron is so good at this.

“Yeah.” 

“So good for me.”

“You.” He can’t say anything more, can only wheeze out short words, his brain is all caught up in _yes_ , _god_ and _Aaron._

_Only you._

“Are you close?” 

“Yeah.” His legs are starting to shake and he fists his cock harder. 

“Me too... Robert... Fuck.” Aaron sounds wrecked. “Where do you want me to cum?” He moans, sinful and deep. “Do you want me to cum down your throat? Or on your chest? Or in your arse?”

Robert almost chokes on sucking the air in. His balls are shrinking and the heat starts crawling up his spine. “Arse.” He almost spits out the word and squeezes his eyes shut.

He imagines Aaron pulling out of his mouth and yanking him up roughly, before spinning him around.

“Hmmmm, yes. Fuck, your arse is amazing. You ready for me, Rob? Ready to get fucked?”

Robert spreads his shivering legs and moves his free hand down to his hole.

“Yes. C’mon.” He circles the entrance, smears the lube everywhere. 

“You’re always so tight, fucking perfect. So good. God, you feel so good.”

_Aaron. Aaron. Aaron._

He pushes a finger in and as soon as it brushes his prostate, his mouth falls open in a silent scream. That’s when he cums, shooting thick, white ropes across his belly.

“Aaron,” he sobs and his muscles are spasming, making him squirm on the bed like a fish on land. 

He hears a loud grunt over the speakers of his phone and then harsh pants. Apart from that, silence. His heart is running a mile a minute, beating somewhere in his throat. 

His finger is still buried in him and the hand is still wrapped around his cock, sticky with cum and lube.

_Holy fuck._

Robert blinks his eyes open, dazed. He can’t remember coming that quick from just jerking off. That could have been only minutes.

“Jesus, Aaron,” he says with a shaking voice and licks his tingling lips. Robert carefully retracts his hands. 

“I have spunk in my beard,” the other man mutters, breathless. 

They start laughing at the same time and that wonderful bone deep feeling of relaxation and satisfaction is slowly seeping into his limbs, making them heavy. 

“Now I truly need that shower,” Aaron jokes.

Robert hums, feeling gross himself, but his body is not ready to move yet. 

“I see you tomorrow at 7?” the trainer asks and when Robert affirms their appointment with another lazy hum, Aaron adds: “And you know what? Since you asked me… I actually did miss you.”

The line goes dead before Robert can say anything back. 

— — —

It’s a true gift looking busy when you’re in fact surfing randomly on the internet. Robert has mastered this skill. Nicola is leaving him alone, which is such a true bliss, because she thinks he is drowning in work. Basically he just ordered new shirts, checked a few hotel websites for his next holiday (and he is absolutely _not_ picturing Aaron and him in a private jacuzzi with sea view on the balcony of a suite) and now he’s browsing casually to one of his favourite domains. Because yes, _those pics!_ He just needs to stare at them from time to time.

**Error 404**

**website not found**

Robert frowns and checks his firefox bar. 

_traineraaron.com_

It’s definitely the correct address! Anyway, he types it in again.

**Error 404**

**website not found**

_Huh._

He opens google, just to check if maybe it’s the signal or something, but the website is loading immediately. Robert inserts ‘traineraaron.com’ in the search bar and Aaron’s homepage is the first suggestion he gets, so he clicks on the link.

**Error 404**

**website not found**

The frown on his forehead deepens, then he pulls his phone out.

**to Aaron Dingle, PT**

Hi, Aaron! Your website is down.

He already hit send before he panics suddenly. There is no reason for him to visit Aaron’s website at the moment, surely the trainer would find that super weird. 

**to Aaron Dingle, PT**

I saw it by accident.

He cringes at his own message and slaps his forehead, but decides to leave it there. That train left, he can’t get out of it anymore, he would only dig his grave deeper with every additional text.

It doesn’t matter anyway, because Aaron doesn’t reply although the blue ticks are indicating that he read it. Robert is okay with that. It’s not like he’s checking his phone every five minutes for a new whatsapp… the _absence_ of the usual ‘ping’ is deafening. 

_Aaron is probably just too busy to write._

Robert tells himself to stop being paranoid and checks the website _again,_ just to make sure it’s still offline. 

Right in that moment Vic stomps in his office like the little whirlwind that she is. He rolls his eyes and wonders if he ever will see the day where she actually knocks. Most definitely the answer is no. Civility is not a thing amongst siblings.

“Your lunch!” she says and puts the tupperware on the sideboard and takes the ones from yesterday.

“Cheers. Did you get the new food plan from Aaron? I sent an e-Mail to you,” Robert asks and regrets it the second he sees Vic’s eyes lighting up at the mention of his trainer. 

“Soooo…”

“No!” he interrupts her.

“You don’t even know what I wanted to say!” she pouts and crosses her arms.

“I’m sure the answer is no,” Robert reassures her.

She’s standing there, sulking, tapping her foot impatiently on the floor. Her silence lasts approximately 3,4 seconds. “So, how’s it going with Aaron?”

He sighs deeply. 

_Why, god? Or whoever the fuck is listening? What have I ever done?_

“Good.”

“Good? When I remember it right, you two kissed, didn’t you?” Vic asks and she’s slowly grinning when he’s shifting on his chair, clearly knowing she hit a nerve. “And when you mentioned a plus one for Andy’s wedding… you didn’t mean a certain personal trainer by chance, did you?”

Robert forces his eyes down on his screen, typing quickly on his keyboard, pretending to be busy. That he’s googling ‘new on Netflix’... well, his sister doesn’t need to know.

The thing is, although he was ready to talk about Aaron with Andy and Vic the other day, he isn’t in the mood to talk about him _now._

“Training is good, we’re going to run 20 miles tomorrow,” he says instead, simply ignoring her nosy question. 

“Did you kiss again?”

“I am actually a bit nervous, we never went for such a distance.”

“Or did anything else happen?” she smirks.

“I bought a running watch now to be prepared.“

“You wanted to, didn‘t you?“

“Aaron says, I‘m ready for it.“

“You can tell me, you know?”

“Are you done with playing 20 questions?” he finally snaps at her. “Maybe then you can start talking about that boyfriend of yours that you didn’t mention _once_ to me so far. So maybe before you start poking your nose in things that aren’t your concern, you might look at yourself first.”

Vic looks at him, caught like a deer in headlights. Then she’s straightening her back and her face hardens. “You know what, forget it, Rob. I’m sorry I asked. I’m sorry I _care_ about your life.”

Robert rolls his eyes.

_Dramatic much?_

His sister turns on the spot, grabs the plastic boxes with a sharp motion and stomps out of his office. Robert stares at the empty spot in the doorframe and deflates slowly. He knows he has a point with his words, but they came out way too harsh.

He rolls his chair back, leans forward and rests his forehead on the glass plate of his desk with a deep sigh. This whole Aaron-situation is messing with his head. And the worst thing is that he feels so awfully helpless against it. 

_Shit, shit, shit._

— — — 

Aaron and his bloody sweet talking mouth. 

_You‘re ready, Robert, he said. Ready, my arse!_

Robert is _not_ ready. Nowhere near ready. He hates all his life choices which brought him here to this point. What the fuck was he thinking? He should have listened to Vic right in the beginning - him finishing a goddamn marathon is utopian. Every fitness blog is telling him that 12 weeks is not nearly enough time to prepare for such a long run.

Andy was training for this shit for months already! 

The first hour was fine, really fine. Aaron reminded him that this run wasn’t about pace, so they settled for a slow jog. His pulse was fine according to his new running watch and they even talked a little. The presence of the PT was calming and motivating at the same time.

It went downhill during the second hour. His legs started getting tired and he kept on glancing at his watch to check the distance they already managed. Dread was filling his guts when he noticed that they only accomplished 14 miles after two hours. Just a bit over half the distance of the marathon and he felt like they were running for bloody ages already!

Now his calves are burning, his feet are hurting and what’s definitely the worst: his mindset is slipping. 

He wants to give up. He can’t do it. He’ll never reach his goal. 

26 miles is fucking impossible. 

_Fuck this. Fuck all of this. I can’t anymore. I quit this shit._

“Stop moaning,” Aaron wheezes next to him.

Only then Robert realises that he must have actually muttered this endless string of curses. 

“You can do it,... Robert, I know you can... C’mon,... just a bit longer.”

At least his trainer is out of breath, too. 

Robert’s lungs are _burning_ with every inhale. Minutes are dragging endless and he keeps glancing at his watch every five seconds. 

Time won’t pass. The distance won’t increase. 

He feels like failing. And Robert Sugden doesn’t fail. He _does not!_

Suddenly he feels close to bursting out in tears. The feeling of not being fit enough for this task is overwhelming.

“You’re doing amazing,” Aaron says next to him, “never thought... you’d come this far... when you were lying in the parking lot... after our first session.” 

His snort ends up as a harsh gasp, followed by a coughing fit. They don’t stop running, but they slow down a bit.

“I mean it,” Aaron insists.

Robert looks at him then and nearly trips over his own feet. The trainer is covered in a sparkling layer of sweat, his curls are sticking on his forehead, the cheeks are reddened. He’s wearing a grey shirt that is clinging to those incredible pecs like a second skin. A dark patch is pointing down towards the abs. 

It’s unfair that Aaron still looks like a bloody model after 16 miles of running. 

Somehow this little moment gives Robert a bit of extra strength. It’s like the boost he needed. Maybe it’s just the thought of not letting his trainer down that spurs him on, but somehow - and afterwards he honestly can hardly remember how it went - they manage the last 4 miles. 

Cramps started during the last mile and when they reach the clearing where the woods end at the edge of the town, Robert basically collapses with a loud groan and Aaron gently helps him to lie down on the forest ground. He throws an arm over his eyes. 

“You’ll get cramps,” the trainer reasons.

“Too...late,” he grits out. 

Robert just wants to die.

Thank fuck, he left his car at home like Aaron suggested and came with the cab - no way on earth he can drive a car in this state. Hell, he can‘t probably even walk anymore. 

His legs feel hot and heavy and like jelly. His back hurts and fuck, even his _teeth_ hurt. Why do his teeth hurt?

Aaron lifts up his right leg and puts the heel right between his pecs, then he begins to massage Robert’s aching calf. He moans helplessly at the sensation of the strong fingers poking into the burning pain.

It’s almost impossible, but somehow Robert lifts his arm up to his forehead and blinks up to Aaron. The feeling of deja-vu knocks the air out of his lungs. This is exactly like after their very first training session. 

It was only 9 weeks ago, but it feels like a different life, really. Back then, Aaron was just some blinding hot muscled torso on two legs. And now, Aaron is…

_The guy I love._

Robert swallows when he feels that sharp tug piercing his chest again. The blue eyes are looking down at him swimming full of affection and pride. Aaron looks _proud._

“You really did it, Rob.”

His throat tightens painfully. Emotions are washing over him, are choking him. Firstly there is this _love_ for Aaron, that still foreign feeling of getting all hot and gooey inside. Secondly there is the slow realisation that he actually _did_ it! 20 fucking miles, motherfucker! And then there is Aaron again, because in the end it is always Aaron, isn’t it. 

He couldn’t have done it without him.

Nothing in the past few weeks, to be honest. His trainer pushed him to his limits over and over, slowly but steadily bringing him to a new level of fitness and health. He was there when he had that epic meltdown because of his father, listening, staying with him. And it’s only down to him that Robert didn’t give up halfway today. 

Aaron keeps him going. 

And so Robert is lying on his back on the mucky forest ground, suffering from cramps, mooning at his PT.

Fuck, he has it bad.

He blames the goddamn endorphins from the run. 

“You really did it,” Aaron repeats, slightly incredulous, before he carefully puts the right leg down to grab the left one. “Didn’t expect you to pull through, to be honest.”

Ah, there is it again, Aaron’s little sarcastic tease, Robert already missed it. The icy eyes are sparkling and a tiny smile is tugging at his mouth. 

“You said I’m ready!” Robert exclaims and then he grunts loudly because of the perfect pressure on his tight muscle.

The trainer smiles then, broad and carefree and Robert wants to kiss him now! Instead Aaron keeps standing there, massaging his leg, looking down on him. 

“Since when do you listen to what I say?” 

“Excuse me? I always listen to what you say!”

Damnit, Robert is a sucker for Aaron getting all bossy with him. Especially during sex. But also during their training. But especially during sex. 

“So when I ask you, if you actually quit eating sweets like I told you to, your answer would be yes?”

Robert pouts and points a finger at him. “You’re playing dirty, Dingle. Which human being can seriously live without sugar? That’s unfair!”

Aaron throws his head back and laughs, short and loud and wonderfully raspy, then he lowers the leg to the ground and crawls over Robert, grinning like a predator. 

Robert licks his lips in anticipation. He wants to kiss Aaron so bad and therefore grabs his shirt and pulls him down on top of him.

“Oof.” 

And then finally those lips are on his, sliding perfectly against his skin. Aaron’s kisses will never cease to amaze Robert. The exciting mixture between soft lips and harsh stubble, the little battle for dominance that Aaron wins more often than himself (which he is totally fine with), the hand that sneaks up on his neck and holds him gently, the thumb that caresses his skin ever so slightly. 

Aaron pulls back eventually, but his face stays close. Robert eyes flick back and forth between his eyes and down to his mouth, back up to the eyes…

It’s something about that stare, about the intensity, that makes him wanna squirm. It feels like Aaron can look straight into his soul and Robert fears what he might see there. If he could see the feelings he has for Aaron? 

“You’re heavy,” he says hoarsely and it’s a blatant lie. He loves Aaron’s weight on him. But now he needs him to get off, get away from that gaze. 

“And you’re an idiot,” Aaron smiles fondly at him, gives him one last quick peck on the mouth and gets up.

Robert stays on the ground and bumps his head back, closes his eyes with a heavy sigh. 

_Fuck._

Two realisations are dawning on him.

First: damn, he could actually _complete_ that bloody marathon without dying underway and demonstrate to his father that he could do anything he wanted.

Second: There is no way he can cut Aaron from his life after the marathon. Out of sight, out of mind is not going to work, Robert knows it. 

He is in it way too deep already. 

— — —

Robert is scowling out of the window and checks his sat nav again. It’s definitely the right address. 

_Main Street, Emmerdale_

After five days of radio silence and bad takeaway food from the corner down the road, Robert caved. It’s the longest he hasn’t spoken to his little sis in… like forever. So he had this spontaneous idea earlier on that Sunday he would drive to that pub she’s working at and finally make up with her. 

It’s actually funny that he never visited her at work before. All he knows is that she‘s chef in a pub in a small village. He always imagined it more like a restaurant and thought she was just downplaying it. 

But when he drives past that handful of stoney houses in bloody Dullsville, he isn’t so sure about that anymore. Although this village is only about 15 minutes away from the farm, he’s never been here before, it’s weird. 

He parks his Porsche and looks at that house with the huge sign above the door. 

_Woolpack_

Seriously. His sister is an amazing chef, why on earth is she wasting her talent in some dumb village pub in the back of beyond? He’s gonna talk about it with her.

It’s not that bad, Robert has to admit, when he enters it. He expected worse, like the stench of chip pan and stale beer. Instead it is almost cosy, a bit too much dark wood maybe, but cosy. A few tables are taken and Robert feels eyes on him when he walks towards the bar, where an older woman is currently pulling a pint.

Next to him is a bloke his age, waiting. He’s tall and slim, has dark hair and a beard. And although this lad has _nothing_ on Aaron, he reminds Robert of the trainer anyway. He wonders what Aaron is doing today.

They’ve seen each other only yesterday for a very slow and almost relaxing jog, but still, Robert misses him. 

“Something funny, mate?” the guy says abruptly.

It takes Robert a second to realise the man meant _him._ And then it takes him another second to realise the smile that is on his face. And that he was staring at that bloke. 

He snaps out of it immediately.

“Nope,” he says. “Nothing.“

_Nothing besides your face._

Rude boy gives him another hard glare and yeah, this lad has really nothing-zero-nada on his Aaron. At that moment the woman behind the bar says: “Here you go, Ross.” She places the pint in front of the dark haired guy.

Ross throws a fiver on the bar and sneers: “Keep the change, Diane.“

Robert wonders if that bloke was brought up by wolves, because honestly, how can you even make a nice gesture look rude?

“What can I get you?“ The woman, Diane, is obviously used to this behaviour, because she seems not to have taken any offense. 

“Err… orange juice, please.“

She smiles and pulls the bottle out, while he‘s drumming with his fingers on the wood.

When she hands it over and they exchange the money, he says: “My sister is supposed to be working here today. Victoria Sugden. Could you let her know, I‘m here?“

“Ah!“ her face lights up. “You must be Robert!“

He wonders if she knows Andy, because she picked the right name out of two possibilities. Maybe it was just a lucky guess.

_Or maybe Andy is a regular here, since it‘s not far from the farm._

Robert sighs quietly. He should really stop seeing Andy as a competition, he knows that deep down. It‘s just hard to break the pattern. 

“I‘ll wait over there,“ he informs her and points to an empty booth.

“Sure thing, pet, I‘ll get to her in a sec.“

“Diane!“ A woman from one of the tables behind shouts.

“Coming!“ Diane gives him one last smile then she‘s heading for the other customer. 

Robert walks to the booth, sits down and takes a look around. The novelty of the pub is worn off quickly and he‘s getting bored already. That Diane lady is still talking to that other woman and so Robert pulls out his phone, annoyed. 

He starts typing out a text to Vic, when he suddenly hears her voice.

“...get out of my kitchen!“ She‘s laughing.

“Aww babe!“

Robert‘s ears perk up at that and he shoves the phone back in his jeans quickly. Is that Vic‘s mysterious boyfriend? He cranes his neck, apparently the voices are coming from a little corridor behind the bar.

“You just love to distract me, don't you!“ his sister exclaims. Manly laughter followed that. “You two are just as bad as each other!“ Vic huffs.

Then finally, she enters the room, holding a plate in her hands. Robert has never seen her in her chef uniform and he is hit with a wave of pride for his little sister. 

Two guys are following her and suddenly the world stops. Every thought in his head is silenced. 

It‘s like he‘s watching the scenery unfolding in slow motion.

First: there is Puppy Barton, grabbing his sister with one of his trademark dopey-dumb grins on his face, spinning her around and _kissing_ her.

Second: there is _Aaron. His Aaron._ Aaron is walking behind them, smiling fondly.

_What?_

“Oi, this is getting cold,“ Vic mutters against Puppy‘s face, lifting the plate demonstratively. “Aaron, get him off me.“

Aaron chuckles and clasps a hand on Barton‘s shoulder. “C‘mon mate, you know how she gets when she‘s annoyed.“

Both men snicker at that and only then Puppy lets her go. 

_What?_

_So…. Adam flaming Barton is Vic‘s mysterious boyfriend?_

Robert slowly gets up from his booth. His guts are feeling hot and heavy, like they weigh a ton, like they drag him back down again.

_And… Vic knows Aaron?_

And they don‘t only know each other… they are _friends!_ They look like they are close friends. He walks on stiff legs over to the three people behind the bar.

“ _My colleague has a cousin…”_ he hears her saying all those weeks ago, “ _This guy happens to be a PT and Marlon is full of praise for him.”_

She didn‘t call Aaron her friend. Ever. She made it look like he‘s some random relative of one of her colleagues. And even after Robert told her about the kiss, Vic made no attempt in admitting that she knows Aaron. 

Robert suddenly knows what this is and he feels like the biggest idiot in the world.

She tried to set him up. 

They probably laughed their arses off about him behind his back.

_I was so stupid!_

So fucking stupid. He feels cold. And numb. His legs are stiff when they come to a halt at the counter. The others haven‘t even noticed him yet, because they are so caught up in the banter and laughter.

Robert opens his mouth and bites out: “Well, ain‘t that cosy.“

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun-dun-DUNNNNN!
> 
> *she sighs* I‘m sorry. (Not really 😝)
> 
> Discuss in the comments (I love reading them!) and say hi on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/miss_kattz) or [Tumblr](http://www.karlakattz.tumblr.com) 🙌🏻


	9. Run hot and cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is Aaron Dingle?  
> Robert finally get some answers, but one big question is still open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, here we go!  
> Who is Aaron? What is he hiding?  
> What do you think?  
> In this chapter you‘ll get some answers... I hope you won‘t be disappointed. I‘m quite nervous to post this.
> 
> (God damn, how could this smutty fic get so plotty??? 😱)

“Well, ain‘t that cosy.“

Three heads are turning in his direction, the expressions quickly changing. Adam‘s face closes off, Vic stares at him full of shock and surprise and Aaron looks uncomfortable while he shifts on his feet. 

_Oh yeah, you bet he does._

“Robert! What are you doing here?“ Vic shrieks.

“Thought I‘d visit my sister,“ Robert says coolly, “didn‘t know I get to meet the mysterious bf and the gay bestie as well.“

Aaron flinches and Vic gasps. “Robert…,“ she starts deflating and rubs her forehead. 

He can’t believe she came into his office this week and asked him about Aaron, although she must have known that they aren’t together! She must have known _first hand._ How fucking stupid he was. 

“It‘s what you are, right? Friends?“ he snaps, pointing between her and Aaron. “And you- what? Just forgot to tell me that?”

Vic squirms on the spot and Robert stares her down, not willing to let her wriggle her way out of that. He wants answers, he wants her to admit it.

That she tried to set him up with the next best gay bloke she knows. 

_Poor Robert, can’t find someone on his own. Poor Robert is too busy to get laid._

Man, she must pity him a fucking lot.

“Can we continue this in the back please?” Aaron asks quietly, eyes flicking around.

Robert’s eyes snap to him and then it dawns on him. If this is about setting him up, Aaron must have known. The jab in his chest almost knocks him off his feet and he has to take a few steps back to stabilise himself. 

He fell in love and he hoped Aaron would love him back. Instead he was just a pity-fuck. 

Robert wants to rip his hair out.

“I quite like it here. And also I don’t think you have a say in this right now,” he says and straightens his back, not willing to show how much he’s fucking _hurt._

“I think I do, since this is my pub.”

Aaron looks at him with these amazing blue eyes and Robert just blinks. His brain tries to add up all the information he got in the past two minutes, but his head is spinning.

_Aaron owns this pub? What?_

His personal trainer is Vic’s boss? The pub-owning mechanic-trainer… Who the fuck is Aaron Dingle?

Robert swears he can actually hear the _click_ when the pieces are fitting together like a puzzle. 

_Oh my god, the website. It’s taken down now, isn’t it. It all was just part of the charade._

How could he be so incredibly dumb!

“Are you even a real personal trainer?“ he presses out. 

“You what?“ Aaron growls and frowns at him, raises his chin.

He looks angry and _what the fuck!_ Aaron is not allowed to be pissed off, because if anyone here is allowed to be fucking pissed off it’s Robert, alright? How dare Aaron be mad, when he was in on it all along. 

Robert seethes with rage. 

“Robert, please, let’s talk in the back,” Vic pleads with her big eyes. 

His eyes flick between their faces and then he’s _done._ “You know what, I have nothing to talk about with you.”

He can’t believe he came here to apologise. _He_ wanted to apologise. 

Robert turns on the spot and struts towards the exit - at least he hopes it’s the goddamn exit and not just the loo, because he can barely see straight. He can’t talk right now, neither to Vic nor to Aaron. He doesn’t trust his mouth right now.

For a moment he fears the door would fly off its hinges when he pushes it open, but it doesn’t happen and then he’s back out on the square in front of the pub. Robert sucks the air in harshly, fills his lungs to the max and then slowly exhales. He waits for about five seconds.

Nobody comes after him.

He gets into his car as quickly as possible. When he leaves Emmerdale, he puts his foot down and breaks the speed limit. He can’t get out of there fast enough. 

\-- -- --

“Morning, Robert! I have-”

“Not now, Nicola!” he brushes her off as he walks past her and he’s aware how rude he sounds.

He doesn’t need to look at her face to know she’s irritated. It’s not like he can change it though. With a sigh he closes the door of his office, leaving the noise outside, and rubs his face. Fuck, he’s tired, he can’t remember being that tired at work.

The result of a sleepless night. The night was shit, simply awful, the worst night he had in ages. You can’t doze off when your bloody brain won’t shut up. 

That moment where Vic, Adam and Aaron entered the pub is replayed over and over in his head. How close they were. As if they have known each other for _ages._

There were so many thoughts and feelings boiling inside him. First the anger towards his sister for trying to set him up like that. As if he was too stupid to get a love life on his own. And then Aaron. 

_Fuck, Aaron! Why? Why Aaron of all people?_

_He listened to me talking about my family, talking about my dad._

Why did he never say anything? Aaron is supposed to be that decent bloke! With all his soft looks, his encouraging praise, his pride of Robert, his tender touches and his incredible way to cherish Robert’s body? Did he read it all wrong?

Robert wondered what Aaron and Vic were saying about him behind his back. If Aaron told her about them having sex. The thought makes him sick.

He ended up on the couch, watching real life crime shows and spooning ice cream out of the box. It was his secret emergency stock for bad moments, deeply buried in his freezer.

_Fuck Aaron Dingle and his no sugar rule._

Well, if that wasn’t a bad moment, then Robert didn’t know what was. 

And now he’s exhausted, physically and mentally. There are 12 missed calls and 4 messages from Vic on his phone - but nothing from Aaron. Nothing. As soon as his computer is booted, he opens his outlook. 

It takes him almost 30 minutes to write down the short email, although he’s been overthinking every word since four o’clock in the morning. He types, deletes, rewrites.

_With immediate effect I’d like to terminate our contract. I’m gonna transfer the money for the six remaining sessions on your account._

_Robert J. Sugden_

He adds his official business signature, just to make it even more impersonal, just to make it even more clear where Aaron Dingle can shove it. 

Robert looks at the words, somewhat pleased with how they sound in his head, but then he slowly deflates. 

_This is it then._

No more training with Aaron. No more laughing with Aaron. No more joking with Aaron. No more looks from Aaron. No more sex with Aaron. 

His heart is aching so much he wants to scream. Instead he hits send.

He stares at his phone on the table as if it is his personal enemy and thinks about just deleting those whatsapps from his sister. In the end his curiosity wins, because he wants to know what she has to say, if she admits it at least. 

He wants an apology.

Robert gives in, grabs his phone and opens the app.

**Vic**

I tried to call you.

**Vic**

Can we talk?

**Vic**

Robert please, don’t be like that.

**Vic**

Pick up your phone, I’m worried!

He blinks at the texts, trying to make up his mind what to do with them. In the end he decides to do the mature thing.

Not calling her, that is, obviously. Because honestly, his head is still all over the place, especially after that night from hell. He wants to be clear and focused when he faces her. 

The door opens and Nicola comes in. “Robert, I’m sorry, I know you don’t wanna be interrupted, but-” His PA stops dead in her tracks. “Are you crying?”

He blinks and damn, his vision is a bit blurry indeed. 

“No!” he states. “It’s, err, because of the screen. We should buy new screens, these ones are pretty old and Computer Vision Syndrome definitely is a thing.”

He read that somewhere recently and although he can’t quite remember what the article said, it seems like a good moment to throw it in. Nicola’s face softens and Robert _hates_ that look. Pity is the last thing he needs from his assistant.

“Robert…”

“Just buy new screens, Nicola. For all our staff. Official order.” He clears his throat. “And whatever you wanted to tell me, just drop me an email, yeah? I am really…” he points to his computer, “...busy.”

Instead of leaving, she just stands there and Robert basically sees the cogs turning in her head, how she is internally debating if she should try talking to him again.

“Thanks, that’s all for now,” he informs her shortly and grabs the mouse.

It takes another five seconds before she finally goes back to her desk. He lets out a quiet breath, leans his elbows on the table and buries his head in his palms. 

It’s weird… it’s not like Aaron and him were actually a real thing, but it feels like he just broke up with someone. And it hurts, there are no words for how much he’s hurt. No goddamn Thesaurus can cover it. He never felt like this before. 

Love sucks.

\-- -- --

Running sucks too. It sucks big time. 

Especially now that he is alone. It’s just dull. 

Robert never noticed _how_ dull it is. Oh dear, how can anyone with a sane mind claim to enjoy this? 

He thought music might help him to stay focused, so he brought headphones and started a random playlist on his phone. Right now the song switches once more and soft wind instruments are flooding his ear.

_You’re just too good to be true,_

_can’t take my eyes off you…_

Robert nearly trips over his feet, he pulls the ear pods out _that_ quickly. But it’s too late now, because of course this song reminds him of Aaron and of course the PT is back in his mind again - not that he ever really left, because he lives there rent free.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

While he keeps slowly jogging, he’s searching for a new playlist, one that definitely won’t contain love songs. He settles for rock music, hopes the genre might push his thoughts back and his body forward. 

Three songs later he randomly thinks that Aaron might like this kind of music. With a groan he gives up.

Love sucks. So much.

\-- -- --

He tries not to, but he gets drunk eventually. Robert knows he‘s an idiot the second he grabs the bottle from his living room cabinet.

It‘s not the right way to deal with emotional stress, he knows that, it‘s unhealthy. He just can‘t break the pattern.

The arsehole voice in head singsongs the word _alcoholic_ on repeat and the truth is, Robert doesn‘t know if he’s on the way to develop a problem or if he‘s right in the middle of it already. 

Muffling the nagging noise with Whiskey is not a wise decision, but anyway. Robert downs the first glass in one go, face twisting as the liquid burns in his throat and heats up his stomach. 

Three glasses later he finds himself missing Stuart, the barkeeper from that bar with the wacky name he already forgot. There is a difference between drinking in a pub and drinking at home. Drinking in a pub is somewhat social, even if you‘re on your own. Drinking at home when you’re on your own is just… _alone._

Loneliness hits him and gets mixed with that ache of missing Aaron. God, he misses Aaron so fucking much. 

How could he ever think for only a second that he could walk away from the PT by choice after the marathon? It seems ridiculous now. 

Robert snorts loudly. 

Besides that there is dead silence in his apartment.

He quickly flicks on the radio, just to create some background noise, to make him feel less lonely.

The alcohol is - _surprise, surprise_ \- not helping to lighten his mood. He still can‘t stop thinking about Aaron. 

_Why? Aaron, why would you do this?_

Another Whiskey. Burn. Heat.

His head is getting lightweight, feels like floating. The radio host is talking about the next song, but Robert isn‘t really listening and so it hits him like a brick when Adele's melancholic voice comes out of the speakers. The song jabs right into his heart. 

He slams the glass onto his coffee table, grabs his keys and storms out of his flat, leaving Adele singing about making someone feel her love behind. 

It‘s like watching someone else calling a cab. It‘s like watching someone else telling the driver the address. Robert is like on autopilot.

At some point during the drive he realises that he‘s still holding the Whiskey bottle in a death grip. He takes a sip and looks outside, the landscape is getting blurry already. 

When they reach the destination and the driver tells him the price, he just throws a few notes towards him and climbs out of the car. His vision swims away and he feels himself swaying a little. 

_Damn, that‘s not a good idea. Go home, Robert._

It‘s that nice voice. Unfortunately it‘s also a very _quiet_ voice and it doesn‘t get heard often. 

Instead Robert hears something different. A voice that shouts: “Isaac, come on, we‘re going in!“

It‘s Aaron. He‘d recognise that voice everywhere, no matter how pissed he is. 

Robert stares one second longer at the stupid sign of the stupid WOOLPACK, before he staggers along the stone wall to the back of the house. Right when he’s reached the corner, he sees a door getting closed and then silence again.

It‘s the back door and Robert supposes that Aaron lives there, since he is the _owner_ of this pub. Damnit, Robert still can‘t get his head around it. How many jobs has Aaron Dingle got?

And who’s Isaac? Of course the other voice is more than happy to provide the answer.

_His boyfriend. You knew it all along._

The phone calls. The messages. The rushed out _‘I have to go now‘_ s after their sessions. Of course. It makes sense. It just wasn’t Puppy who‘s sharing a bed with Aaron, it‘s apparently a guy called Isaac. 

Anger boils inside him, pure rage. How dare Aaron use him as some random bit of fun on the side! Robert deserves better! Fuck, this Isaac bloke deserves better as well!

Before he can stop himself, he walks to the door and rings.

The boyfriend has to know what an arsehole Aaron Dingle is! Oh, Robert is so gonna tell him! Expose Aaron for what he is!

_A backstabbing cheat, a cold-hearted liar, a-_

The door is being opened and Robert takes a wobbly step back - the sight hits him _that_ much. 

It‘s Aaron and he looks so _good,_ it's almost too much to handle! His hair is gel-free and curly again and his blue eyes are widening at the sight of his nightly visitor. 

“Robert!” Aaron breathes out surprised.

Robert gives him a quick once over - he had barely seen Aaron in his normal clothing and the tight black jeans and the olive green shirt are hugging his body in all the right places and Robert wants to _take his clothes off right now!_

He shakes his head to focus again - and ha, the irony: his vision doubles and sways. 

“Where’s Isaac!” he says and his own slurred, gruff voice makes him wince. 

Aaron’s face turns into one big frown. “What?”

“Isaac!” Robert shouts and tries to peer over Aaron’s shoulder inside the house. “Isaac?”

He only sees a small hallway, a staircase to the left and a door behind Aaron, that‘s being opened right in that moment.

“Robert, what are you-” Aaron hisses, but he gets interrupted by a small voice.

“What’s up? Aaron?”

Robert is confused and it takes him a moment to realise that the new voice came from somewhere _down._ There is a toddler, half hiding behind Aaron’s leg. He stares at Robert with huge eyes and grabs a hold of Aaron jeans with his little fists. 

“Who’s this?” The boy looks up at Aaron. “I haven’t done anything, I swear!”

Robert thinks he is about 4 years old, maybe 5, but he can’t be 100 percent sure, because fuck, everything’s so damn blurry.

“Go back inside, Isaac, I’ll deal with it,” Aaron says calmly and smiles at the kid.

_Isaac._

This is Isaac? Oh my god, Aaron has a _child!_ Robert’s eyes flick between the boy and Aaron back and forth, trying to find similarities. This has to be a sick joke or something. 

The boy gives Robert one last, wary look, huffs dramatically and disappears behind the door again.

When he looks up at Aaron, the smile on his face is gone. The trainer looks proper pissed off.

“Is he yours?” Robert forces himself to ask, although he’s scared of hearing the answer.

He doesn’t want to know it, actually. Aaron frowns again and shakes his head and for a moment he looks so angry as if he was about to smack Robert’s head. Then he lets out a long breath, he’s deflating and his shoulders drop.

“You’re drunk,” he sighs and rubs his forehead as if talking to Robert is a bloody _inconvenience ,_ “you should go home.”

“No! We’re talking _now!_ I wanna talk _now!”_ Robert drove all the way out here out in the fucking sticks to get his goddamn answers. He won’t give up just like that. 

“We can talk when you’re sober.”

“No, damn you, Aaron!” Robert shouts angrily and points his finger at him. “Damn you, making it sound like I’m-... what? An alcoholic?” He sways. “We’re fucking talking now!”

The thing is… deep down, he hears it, faintly, distanced, that quiet voice of reason. It’s saying, _whispering_ basically, that Aaron is right, that it’s better he drives home, sleeps it off and then initiates a mature, calm conversation about what happened when he is clear in his head again. 

Reality is, he is in _love_ with Aaron and he’s hurt and angry. And drunk.

And that’s the worst combination possible. And before Aaron even gets the chance to say something, gets the chance to hurt him even more, a dam in Robert breaks and he lashes out.

“I bet you were laughing your ass off with Vic behind my back, weren’t you,” he sneers, “but you know what? I was laughing too!”

“Robert-”

“I would have ended it anyway after the marathon. Actually I’m glad it’s over already,“ he spits out, the lie tasting bitter in his mouth, “I don‘t need this, I don‘t need _you!“_

Aaron looks at him then, like _really_ looks at him and the blue eyes go big again and his lips part slightly. And yeah, he definitely didn‘t expect that, did he.

_Well, fucking fine then!_

Robert wants to hurt him, wants him to hurt like he does. 

“What? You got nothing to say back?“ he mocks Aaron and spreads his arms in a _go-on-then-_ gesture _._

Aaron is gritting his teeths and clenching his jaw, Robert can see his fury. 

“I‘m getting Vic, she can drive you home,“ the trainer‘s voice sounds strained and he starts turning around.

_Hell no. Not Vic._

He still hasn’t spoken to her. Robert does a sound that‘s supposed to be a laugh, but it sounds almost hysterical. “Got bigger balls in bed“ he says coldly and Aaron stills with his back turned to him. “Maybe I should leave a review on those stupid fitness blogs: Aaron Dingle, three stars out of ten. Training is mediocre, but the fucking is alri-”

It happens so quickly, Robert’s drunken brain can barely keep up with the speed. Suddenly Aaron is lunging at him and grabbing his shirt. Their faces are only inches apart and Aaron‘s nostrils are flaring like those of a wild bull. His blue eyes are darting between Robert‘s and his mouth is twisted in a snarl. 

“Get the fuck away from here,“ he hisses through gritted teeth.

“Or what?“

For a moment he thinks Aaron might actually hit him, but then he‘s being pushed back roughly. Drunken Robert trips over his own feet and lands on his arse, the pebbles are piercing into his butt, even through his jeans. He wants to whine about the pain, the literal pain in his arse, but when he looks up, all words get stuck in his throat.

There are tears swimming in Aaron‘s eyes.

“Fuck you, Robert.“ His voice is trembling.

The next thing Robert hears, is the door being slammed shut. And then silence. Dead silence. Apart from his own ragged breathing.

He‘s sitting there, maybe two minutes or maybe twenty, he can’t know for sure, trying to get his head around what just happened. But everything is just a messy vortex of fragments of thoughts.

Robert should feel better now: he wanted to hurt Aaron, and he _did_ hurt him-

_He cried, I made him cry, there were tears_

-and still. It doesn‘t feel like a victory. It doesn‘t make him feel better. 

The cold floor is eventually sobering him up a bit and he pulls out his phone to call a cab.

On the drive back he suspects he‘s going to pass out at some point. But he doesn‘t. 

And that‘s even worse.

— — — 

Robert stares at his phone as if it could magically solve all his problems, if he just stares long enough. 

He honestly wishes he was hungover. Fuck, that‘s a first. 

But honestly, if he was hungover his mind would be occupied with headache and nausea and mourning about how shitty being hungover is. Instead, his head is clear and he feels _fine._

His body, at least.

He wishes he was so drunk that he doesn‘t remember what he said to Aaron. 

But there is no black out. Everything is there, every word he said. The tears in Aaron’s eyes.

_What have I done?_

Although Aaron was the guy who most definitely cheated on his boyfriend, who had a son he never talked about, who knew Vic was Robert‘s sister, who agreed to play his part in this charade - now Robert is the one who feels like he should apologise. 

God, he hates it.

Robert grabs his phone and starts typing a message.

**to Aaron Dingle, PT**

~~I‘m not proud of yesterday, but we both said pretty harsh~~

~~Nothing would have happened if you would have just been honest~~

~~About yesterday, I didn‘t mean~~

~~Showing up like this, was out of order. I apologise for~~

~~I don‘t know how to write this~~

~~I‘m sorry~~

With a frustrated shout in his empty flat he throws the phone away. It crashes against the wall and makes an awful crack. When it lands on the floor, he notices the display is completely shattered now. 

He needed a new phone anyway.

— — —

He pushes the door open and reminds himself to keep his back straightened and his shoulders up. 

_I must be a masochist. I’m gagging to suffer._

The stench of the gym tickles his nose and he quickly makes his way to the changing room.

So it’s gym day, according to the latest plan that Aaron sent him before shit hit the fan. And Robert is still training for that stupid marathon, so yep, he honestly thought it would be a good idea to go through with the programme.

Because he’s a Sugden after all and all that _blah blah._

Now that he’s actually here, Robert can’t fathom how he ever could possibly - even only for the tiniest of seconds - think this is a good idea. Seeing that damn _door_ of Aaron’s changing room alone makes his stomach twist painfully. 

_What if he’s here? What if Aaron’s here?_

Aaron knows the schedule and maybe he’s here, because he expects Robert to be here? 

On the other hand, the trainer still hasn’t replied to that mail he sent days ago, so maybe he just isn’t interested in interacting with Robert after that drunken incident at all.

_Couldn’t get rid of you quickly enough, Robert, let’s face it._

He hates his brain, honestly. He wants a refund. It’s always twisting things into something negative. 

The public changing room reminds him of how perfect it had been with Aaron in his private room. How intimate. The shared laughter, breathtaking kisses, gentle touches, lust clouded making out sessions. 

Here, three other men are shifting around in an uncomfortable silence, half naked, busy getting ready either for sports or heading home. Sweat is wafting through the air.

Robert loathes it.

He grits his teeth, throws his bag onto those awful wooden benches he already hated back in school. Changing takes him not even five minutes, he is glad for every further moment that he doesn’t have to spend in there.

With his towel over his shoulder he walks towards the equipment, eyes darting around to look out for dark hair and a trimmed beard. 

Which is, unfortunately, a description that fits like every third bloke in here and everytime Robert spots someone, his heart would stutter. 

After 10 minutes he starts slowly relaxing, when he’s sure that he scanned all the people and Aaron is not amongst them. 

He does exactly what Aaron would have done with him: he starts with a little warm up. After he forces himself to a 10 minute exercise on the crosstrainer, he grabs light weights and does a few lunges. 

“What the hell do you think you‘re doing here?“

He doesn’t recognise the voice at first, because it’s no more than a sneer, but when he turns around he is met with the angry face of Puppy Barton. Puppy, who suddenly doesn’t look like a puppy anymore. Gone is the dopey friendliness.

“I know the technique sucks, but I‘d say I‘m doing lunges,“ Robert shoots back and tries to go back to his exercise. He isn’t keen on a conversation with Aaron’s friend. 

_And my sister’s boyfriend._

As if he needed that reminder, thanks really. 

“Stop being a smartass. You‘re barred,” Adam says and crosses his arms like a stubborn child. 

“What? You can‘t just kick me out, I _paid_ for the membership!“

“Well, I‘m the owner and you are barred. Your contract terminates at the end of the month. Now get out of my gym,” Adam tells him and Robert is honestly impressed with how different he looks, now that the trademark grin isn’t plastered on his face anymore. 

He stands there for a second, debating what to do. In the end he doesn’t want to cause a scene, he already feels eyes burning into his skin. 

Fuck Barton’s gym - it’s not even two weeks now until the marathon, he doesn’t need the gym anymore, anyway. 

Robert huffs and puts the weights back on the rack and starts walking towards the locker rooms.

“You just wanted a bit of fun, you don‘t care about him at all, do you.“

Adam’s words make him freeze on the spot. Very slowly he turns around, barely being able to breathe. 

“What?” he bites out.

“Don’t act innocent. I know you two did more than just train, although he never actually said anything,” Adam says angrily, “You know, I told him to be careful, but Aaron wouldn‘t listen to me!“

Every thought comes to a screeching halt. One moment, wait a second, what. _Careful,_ what?

_What?_

“What?“

“I tried to warn him, but he is so gone on you, he wouldn‘t listen!“ Adam shakes his head and stares at him dismissively. 

_Gone on you. What?_

“What?“

“Look, I know you are Vic‘s brother and all, but Aaron is _my_ brother - not by blood, but we’re just as close. And anybody who hurts him, will have to deal with me as well.“

“What?” Robert is parrot now, only able to form this one word.

His lips are feeling numb. And his brain kicks in from 0 to 180 in a nanosecond, thoughts whirling in him.

“Wait, wait, what did you say, what did you mean- he’s gone on me?!“

Adam gives him one last death stare, before he turns around. 

“Oi! What did you mean?“ Robert shouts after him, standing there like he’s stuck to the floor.

He gets flipped off over Adam’s shoulder, who isn’t even looking at him, but he doesn‘t get an answer. Not from Adam Barton at least.

— — —

“So, now you wanna talk?“ Vic says coldly with raised eyebrows.

She‘s fumbling with her right hand to switch from her car key to the key of her house, while her left hand is carrying her shopping. 

Robert just spent the last two hours lingering outside her home like some creepy stalker, but it wasn’t like he could just call her, because he still hasn‘t got a new phone. And it really came as a shock when he realised he hasn‘t memorised a single fucking number from his contacts. 

So all he could do was wait for her to come home.

“Hi, Vic.“

He takes the bag from the supermarket - a gesture that she simply ignores and opens her front door. Vic walks in without looking back at him and he follows her slowly. Although he knows it was totally rude to ignore her for almost a whole week, it kinda rubs him the wrong way how she treats him like _he’s_ in the wrong. 

But it was her who lied to him for months.

“I think you owe me an explanation,” he says and puts the shopping on her kitchen counter.

She sighs and starts pouring water into a kettle. She switches it on and looks at him. “Okay. Fine. I know Aaron.”

“No shit,” he deadpans.

Vic rolls her eyes and starts emptying the bag. He watches every move of her, getting impatient and feeling the urge to shake her to make her talk.

“Was all this just to set me up?” he presses out instead. 

“No!” she shouts affronted. “I mean-... yeah, I admit, I thought that _maybe_ ,“ she’s stretching the word, “you two would make a nice couple, alright?” 

“Vic!” he groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

He knew it! As if he needed his little sister to play Cupid. As if he isn’t capable of managing a love life on his own. Which… he basically isn’t, considering his sad history of failed relationships and years of being single. But that’s besides the point.

“If I’d have told you, you’d have given him no chance, would ya?” she asks. “I know you.”

_Maybe._

Probably. Okay, he would have _definitely_ continued to look for another trainer. 

“How long?” he wants to know and when she frowns at him, he clarifies: “How long have you known him?”

“Three years,” she says sheepishly. 

Robert barks out a bitter laugh and shakes his head. “So, basically since you work at the Woolpack. You made it sound like he’s some remote relative to one of your colleagues! Instead he’s...your boss or what?”

“He only bought the second half of the pub recently. His mum owns the other share.”

Aaron’s mum is Vic’s other boss. It’s like a puzzle piece is falling into place in Robert’s mind with a quiet _click._ He remembers her talking about her boss being sick and off work a lot lately. And he remembers Aaron telling him about his mother being in hospital. 

“She was pregnant, wasn‘t she?” 

Vic is finished with her shopping and takes two cups out of her cupboard. “Yeah. It’s so heartbreaking, honestly. Being in hospital for weeks, because it was a high-risk-pregnancy and then in the end losing the baby anyway,” she says and looks crestfallen and Robert stills at this new information. “I’m actually surprised Aaron told you, you know, it was hard for him too.”

Well, Aaron didn’t tell him. Not the full story at least. 

_God, that’s fucking awful._

“It broke her, Robert. She’s in therapy now, but no one knows when she’ll be able to leave the clinic.”

Vic starts making tea for herself and - knowing that Robert prefers coffee - grabs some of this gross instant powder to toss it in his cup. He wants to say something, because-

_Ew, instant coffee, what the hell, Vic?!_

-but it’s not the moment for it. The new information about Aaron’s mum hit him. Why didn’t he say a word? Robert could have been there for him, could have returned the favor for Aaron listening to his family problems.

“Is that why he bought half of the pub?” he asks.

He is glad that he’s finally getting some information about Aaron. It’s like there are parts of the puzzle already solved, but the big picture is still fragmented.

Vic nods. “Chas couldn’t do it on her own anymore, so they decided it would be best if she had some support with the paperwork and the suppliers, so Aaron jumped in to help her.“ She hands him the hot cup, he mutters a thanks and she’s giving him a stern look. “And by the way, yes! Of course, he is a real Personal Trainer! Duh! How could you even question that?!”

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes in clear chagrin and Robert ducks his head. “His website was offline, suddenly. And then he tells me he’s a pub owner! What was I supposed to think? It all looked like some stupid scheme to set me up with the next best gay you know!“

It made sense in his head at the time. Now though, he starts seeing everything in a different light and he feels the anger slowly but surely crumbling. 

“He was so excited about becoming a trainer, getting out of his uncle's grotty garage where he was working as a mechanic, you know. And with Adam’s gym, it was just like a perfect combination for both of them. The past few months have really been a set back for him though. With looking after his mum, visiting her in hospital and then pulling pints in between he had to cancel sports appointments and some clients didn’t like that and left for other trainers.”

Robert swallows, not sure what to say to that. Another few pieces click together in his head. He always assumed Aaron cancelling on him was because of other, more important clients. Or the mystical boyfriend-slash-husband. 

“Is Isaac his son?” he suddenly blurts out, because he _needs_ to know.

_Please say no, please say-_

“What? Who?” Vic stutters confused and frowns at him.

“Little boy, maybe 5 years old. Dark hair, bit curly,” Robert says impatiently.

The fact that the name Isaac doesn’t ring a bell has to be a good sign. Surely his sister knew if one of her friends had a kid.

“The only Isaac _I_ know is his cousin.” She squints her eyes. “Do I wanna know how _you_ know _Isaac?”_

“No, you don’t,” he hurries to say and lets out a long breath of pure relief. 

Thank God, Isaac is not Aaron’s son. Not that Robert has anything against the concept of having children - except they’re loud, annoying and create chaos and dirt, of course - but he prefers Aaron not being a DILF, thank you very much. 

Vic stares at him for another second, before she sighs, lifts her cup and blows her tea. 

“I don‘t even know why you got so angry with me. Yeah, okay, maybe I did think you and Aaron would be great together, sue me for wanting my brother to be happy, but for all I know, you are just his client and he is your trainer! You said you kissed _once,_ so honestly! What‘s your problem? I don‘t get it!“

She crooks her head and looks at him with that typical _Sugden_ _Scan Stare™_ of hers, where she tries to read every little emotion that flicks over his face. 

He thinks about her words and yeah seriously, why was he so fucking angry? It doesn’t make any sense anymore, now with everything she told him. For weeks and weeks he was overthinking every whatsapp, every phone call, every little remark of Aaron when he cancelled on him and the feeling inside him grew that Aaron was hiding something. Or someone.

Now though… he just feels void. 

“I don’t need my little sister messing around with my love life,” he insists stubbornly, because if nothing else - _that_ still stands. 

“Okay okay, fair enough,” she holds her hand up in surrender, “I apologise. But since we’re speaking of your _love life_ …” Robert does _not_ like the way she emphasises the words. “I have to ask you, because Aaron won‘t say anything... as you might know by now, he doesn‘t talk much about himself-”

Robert scoffs. 

_Understatement of the year._

“-but Adam reckons there was more between you two than just one kiss…“ She narrows her eyes, intensifying the scanner stare and although Robert tries to play it cool, he can feel his ears burning. Her eyes go big and he knows, he’s doomed. “Oh my god! We knew it!“ Vic shouts triumphantly. “We knew it! There _was_ more, wasn‘t there?“

He stays silent and pointedly sips his wannabe-coffee. It’s still way too hot and burns his tongue before he forces himself to swallow the bitter liquid down. 

“Ew, this is disgusting!“ he states and pours it into the sink. 

“Don‘t change the subject.“

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Robert.” A deep sigh. It says _‘stop being difficult’_. He turns towards her and Vic looks at him with her big bambi eyes and gives him a small encouraging smile. “When you talked about bringing a plus 1 to Andy’s wedding - you really meant Aaron, didn’t you.”

A statement, not a question. It’s her soft voice that causes his invisible walls to crack and her warm hand squeezing his arm to crumble them just like that. Robert nods. Only a small nod, but Vic’s smile gets wider. 

“Do you love him?”

_Yes._

“Yes.” 

Suddenly it feels like a weight is lifted from his shoulders. Saying it loud actually felt good. Felt right. He’d love to soak up the calming warmth that spreads inside his chest, but then Vic makes a squealing sound, puts her cup quickly on the counter and starts clapping her hands in delight and Robert rolls his eyes in exasperation. 

_Oh god damnit. I just fucking opened Pandora’s box._

“Ha! I knew you’d be perfect together!” she shouts in triumph and raises her little fists like a bad Rocky Balboa imitation.

“But we’re not together!” he snaps at her.

Actually they’re far from it - especially after his drunken stunt a few days ago in Emmerdale. 

Vic is sobering up and her arms are sinking slowly.

“Has he-” Robert starts and is suddenly lost for words which doesn’t happen very often. “Adam reckons that Aaron…” He makes a gesture with his hand, “you know…”

“Eeer, no I don’t know.”

Robert wants to strangle her for making him say it out loud. “Adam reckons Aaron might have feelings for me!” He takes a sharp inhale. “Did he ever say anything to you about that maybe?”

It’s the one puzzle piece that’s missing. That big piece in the center. 

His throat tightens at the prospect that even _if_ there was a chance that Aaron might love him back - he might have blown it by now. 

“Sorry,” she shakes her head and he deflates. “Look, as I said, Aaron hardly talks about personal stuff with anyone.” Vic starts smiling again and nudges his side. “I guess you just have to ask him.”

“Damn, I feared you’d say that,” he mutters sulkily. 

Robert wants to slap his past-self for driving up to Emmerdale and ringing on Aaron’s door. It was by far one of the worst ideas he ever had. 

After he acted like a massive dick, talking to Aaron and admitting being in love with him should be a total piece of cake.

_Fuck._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never wrote a row between our boys. 😐  
> I hope I did it okay.  
> Comments appreciated! ❤️🙏🏻

**Author's Note:**

> Right?!


End file.
